The Lion and The Lamb
by BlushingBeauty
Summary: Clarke is chosen as a tribute in the 70th annual Hunger Games, her mentor is the charming and charismatic Bellamy Blake who Clarke absolutely loathes. But complications arise when both tribute and mentor begin to show feelings for one another. A sort of Finnick and Annie au. Will be multi chapter and encompass years from the 70th to Mockingjay.
1. Chapter 1: Chained Princess

**A/N:** Hey guys so originally this story was posted on my AO3 account because this account wasn't working right, but now that it is I can finally post this!

 **Chapter 1: Chained Princess**

 _And so the Lion fell in love with the lamb_

"Clarke Griffin!" Annora's cheerful voice had spoken into the microphone. A guilty sigh echoed through the crowd on the girl's side of the square because their names hadn't been called. But someone's had, a very well known person in fact.

Bellamy watched from his seat on the stage as a blonde haired girl walked down the center isle towards the stage. Her hair was held back in its traditional French braid. Clarke Griffin the town princess. Bellamy had always been envious of her with her wealth and future. A future nor him or Octavia ever had a chance at grasping. Clarke's mother was District Four's mayor and head doctor. The Griffin's were a household name, everyone knew who they were. Clarke was two years younger then him in school, they'd spoken only once he doubts she even remembers their brief encounter. Back than it had been much simpler times, all he had to worry about was keeping food in Octavia's stomach and a roof over their heads. Now they had both of those things but it all came with a much bigger price then even Bellamy himself could have expected. Octavia sat to Bellamy's right in a chair matching his. What he wouldn't give for her to not have been on the stage at all, but like before those moments are in the past. Now is the present and it is just as painful.

Bellamy zero's back in on Clarke, she's almost at the stage now. Her fingers are gripping the hem at the bottom of her dress; Bellamy suspects it's out of comfort, she's clinging to the only thing she had left. Clarke isn't crying, that surprises him most kids can barely make it to the stage without crumpling from shock. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Abby Griffin, Clarke's mother, shift slightly forward in her seat like she wants to rush towards her daughter. Bellamy knows there is nothing Abby can do for Clarke now, Annora sealed her fate when she plucked Clarke's name out of the fishbowl of others.

Clarke's on stage now with Annora congratulating her and prompting the silent shocked crowd to clap at her death sentence. Bellamy rolls his eyes, it's the same damn show every year. The camera zooms in on Clarke's face, she looks like ever the prim and proper princess he'd always known her to be. Her silvery blue eyes give nothing away, it's like looking at a statue beautiful but frozen in it's cold perfection. Clarke's mouth is a firm line, grim and silent not like the smile he'd seen in the hallways at school. Her fingers are her tell though, they switch and shake with Annora's every word. _Brave princess_ , Bellamy thinks, _even after walking to her death she can still hold her head high for the cameras._ They haven't broken her yet. But Bellamy knows she'll never be free again, even if she wins she'll be shackled to Snow like the rest of them are. As Annora reaches into the fishbowl for the male tribute and the camera's pan to her Bellamy can see a single sad tear make it's was down Clarkes cheek almost like she knows exactly what he's thinking. _Tragic princess_ , Bellamy thinks, _she can't even properly cry as they pull her from her ivory tower in shackles and hold her to the ground to be trampled on_. Bellamy shakes his head slightly clearing Clarke from his mind; he's Bellamy Blake charming ladies man of the capital he has to hold that mask while the cameras are on.

The male tribute is Finn Collins Bellamy hadn't even noticed he'd walked onto the stage until Octavia had elbowed him just below his ribs to bring him back to reality.

A commotion broke out in the crowd as a girl with a long brown ponytail was being dragged back by peacekeepers. She had tried to make a break for the stage. She was screaming Finn's name along with some other choice words concerning her captors as the peacekeepers forced her down the isle and back towards the girl's side of the square. Finn said nothing to answer's the girls pleading screams, he did not object or fight as the peacekeepers lead him and Clarke inside the council building. The doors shut behind them with a final dooming jolt, and just like that the ceremony was over. Bellamy and Octavia were lead off the stage and towards the train that would take them to the capital.

"I'll be mentoring Finn." Octavia told him as they entered the dining car.

"What? Why?" Bellamy's tone sounded like he'd just eaten something soul and fowl smelling.

He always trained the male tributes and Octavia the females. That was how it worked with them, that was how it had always worked. Bellamy had won the 65th annual Hunger Games when he was only 14, the youngest to ever win. The next year, his first year as a mentor, Octavia had been nominated as tribute. Although Bellamy could never prove it he knew Snow had arranged that just to spite him, it had worked. Octavia had won that year, making her victor of the 66th Hunger Games and therefore taking the youngest ever title from him. After that they had each been mentors, so why would she now say she'd mentor Finn over Clarke?

"Trust me big brother." Was all she offered as an explanation before throwing a wink his way and turning her attention towards the pastry dishes on a nearby table. Great another one of O's scheme's just what he needed right now.

* * *

After a brief conversation with her mother and a quick awkward hug she was shuffled out of her room and into a car to take her to the train. Clarke had tried to think of things to say to her mother seeing as she'd probably never see her again but nothing had come out, her throat had dried right up and she'd been unable to get a word out. This was fine with Abby who had no problem filling in Clarke side of the conversation; it's how most of their talks happened these days. Ever since Clarke's father had died Clarke could barley look her mother in the eye let alone speak to the woman. Their relationship had been so strained and rocky over the past year that maybe that's why she couldn't bring herself to regret the last conversation with her mother. Abby would be left alone in her big house with all her regrets and Clarke couldn't bring herself to care, that was a fate she justified her mother deserved.

Annora was cheerfully filling in the silence in the car with her chipper comments on the greatness of the Capital and how much she was looking forward to this year's games. Clarke blocked out Annora and instead focused in on Finn who would be the male tribute for district four this year. He looked tall enough maybe close to 6 foot with an average build. Clarke thought he'd be a decent competitor in the games at least. He had almost shoulder length brown hair that brushed lightly against his chin when he moved his head. He would've been the exact type of boy Clarke would have gone for. Maybe, she thinks, maybe if things were different, if they weren't both about to die.

The car ride to the train is short maybe two minutes at most. Annora rushes them inside. Clarke only gets a glimpse of the other side before the door slides shut behind her. The train has a sleek design and made of polished steel that shines against the bright sunshine of district four. The inside is just as glamorous as the outside. Annora leads them from one train car to the next pointing out which rooms will be theirs and finally leading them into the dining car.

Clarke has never seen so much food in all her life. There were multiple tables filled with silver trays of any and every food one could imagine. The pastries and deserts held a certain pull for her. True Clarke had never been starving before, both her parents held high paying jobs in the town, they had always had enough food on the table. But she had never seen a feast quite like this before, and definitely never the magnitude that sat in front of her.

In the center of the room was a long table with a number of chars situated around it. On the table sat a number of dishes some native to district four and others that Clarke had never seen before. In front of the table stood two similar looking people. Bellamy and Octavia Blake: the youngest winners of the Hunger Games and town celebrities. They were also quite well known in the Capital, stories of their exploits were often featured in the news and broadcasted all across Panam.

Octavia introduced herself first, and than spoke for Bellamy who seemed determined to stay quiet, even so Clarke could feel his eyes judging her probably trying to tell how long she'd last.

"I'll be mentoring Finn and Bellamy will mentor Clarke for individual things like strategies in the games and playing to each of your strengths. Otherwise either of you can come to both of us for advice or support."

Bellamy crossed his arms over his chest in disapproval, clearly he wasn't happy to be stuck with her.

"So what can both of you do?" It was the first time he had spoken throughout the entire exchange; his voice was deep and stern like an older brother talking down to a younger sibling. Clarke suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, he was just like them five years ago just because he was a victor didn't make him better than everyone else. In Clarke's opinion he was just another inflated asshole controlled by the Capital.

Clarke let out an annoyed sigh when Bellamy turned his glare on her. She matched his glare with her own cold stare. Finn ignorant to the awkward silence between Bellamy and Clarke spoke first about his ability to make fishing nets and hooks. To Clarke he seemed almost boastful; _any idiot can make a fishing net._

"Well what about you princess? What can you do?"

Clarke folded her arms over her chest to match Bellamy's stern appearance

"Princess?" She stuck her chin out a him, her lip curing down into a stern line that only annoyed Bellamy even more.

"Yeah you." He'd leaned closer to her, Clarke's eyebrows scrunching together at his challenge.

"I've trained as a doctor, and I know what plants are safe to eat and which can heal wounds-"

Bellamy took a step closer to Clarke invading her personal space and cutting her off. She hadn't realized how big he was. Physically Bellamy could be very imposing, with his arms crossed over his broad chest and that scowl etched on his face. The words died in Clarke's mouth when his freckle-dusted cheeks were only inches from hers.

"Well that's just great the princess knows how to save lives! That will help her immensely in winning the Hunger Games! Please enlighten us on any more hidden talents you possess. "

"My. Name. Is. Clarke." The words slipped out through Clarkes teeth, she was so tired of people treating her like she deserved to be up on a pedestal.

Clarke's hands tighten into fists as she rises onto her toes to be level with him. They stare at each other eye to eye. Clarke bets if she moved fast enough she could break his nose. Before she can answer his insult or call him out further Bellamy steps back from their close stance and storms out the back of the dining car.

The room is silent following the soft swoosh of the car door closing behind Bellamy's retreating form. Octavia and Finn both stand staring wide-eyed looking between Clarke and the door.

"Well," Annora's chipper voice rings out through the room, "That was all very exciting but I do think it is time to eat." She claps her gloved hands together and motions for everyone to take a seat.

Clarke eats in silence eyes still caught on the closed door across the room. Annora talks the entire time, though Clarke doesn't retain a single word Annora's high capital accent fading to the back of her mind. She barley touches her food and even the sight of the desert trays makes her stomach flip. Bellamy doesn't return for dinner nor does she see him while she and Finn watch the other tributes be reaped on the TV in the entertainment car. The mandatory viewing had just finished when Annora had rushed them off to their rooms saying they'd need a good night sleep before arriving at the Capital tomorrow.

Clarke changed silently into the sleeping clothes an Avox must have set out for her, a pain grey top and matching grey silk shorts. She undoes her braid feeling the silky pieces slip through her fingers as they fall free against her shoulders and down her back. Clarke looks up at the mirror and lets herself fall apart, tears and hollowed sobs escape her mouth. Her hands run through her hair and try in vain to wipe at the fallen tears. It's at that moment the door to her room slides open.

She see's him through the mirror before she turns around. He's changed into a pair or jeans and a grey sweatshirt, his brown hair is tasseled like he'd been out in the wind and in his hands sits a tray filled with different fruits and pastries.

Upon seeing her distraught appearance Clarke can see pink bloom across his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

"Octavia told me you'd barely touched your food at dinner so I...ah brought you some."

Bellamy says awkwardly as he places the tray on Clarke's bed.

"Thank you." Clarke steps further into the room so her and Bellamy are only a few feet apart.

"Look I'm sorry about earlier, I just lost my temper."

Clarke nods her head in agreement.

"You were right before. I'm going into these games and if I want to survive I'm going to need to know how to fight and how to kill."

Bellamy let's out a sigh, "Good, so if your willing to try can we start over?"

For the first time Clarke gives him a slight smile.

"It's nice to meet you Bellamy I'm Clarke." She holds out her hand to him.

Bellamy shakes her hand in return, "Clarke." His lips curl slightly as he says it, and for some reason she can't look away from them.

"I can help you with learning how to fight. I promise I'll try to get you back home."

Clarke turns her eyes to the floor; he shouldn't make promises he can't keep.

"You don't owe me anything Bellamy."

"I'm not doing this because I owe you."

Clarke looks up to meet his eyes, "Then why?"

"Because you have a future, you have a chance to be someone back in district four. You can help people you can save lives. Snow and these stupid games don't get to take that away from you, at least not on my watch."

He leaves after that, saying they'll talk tomorrow about strategies after the tribute parade. For the first time since the reaping Clarke allows herself to hope because with Bellamy Blake on her side she might actually stand a decent chance. When sleep finally does find Clarke that night she dreams of freckles and constellations.

 _"What a stupid Lamb."_

 _"What a sick, masochistic lion."_

* * *

A/N: So let me know how you liked this first chapter. I will be posting all the other chapters throughout the next couple of days. Please leave a review - BB


	2. Chapter 2: Sirens Song

**A/N:** Ok so this is chapter 2, hopefully you guys like it! So my account isn't working right so I am trying to get these up and posted as fast as possible for you guys. As always enjoy - BB

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Sirens Song**

 _In a kingdom by the sea,_

 _That a maiden there lived whom you may know_

 _And this maiden she lived with no other thought_

 _Than to love and be loved by me._

Clarke huffed in annoyance she had been plucked, buffed, shaved, waxed, scrubbed, and glossed multiple times in the last few hours. Her crazy cat eared stylist still seemed unconvinced that every single hair had been pulled from her body. The stylist had clear whiskers sticking from her cheeks and looked like she'd had multiple surgeries to form her nose to that of the shape of a cat. Her eyes are what frightened Clarke the most, they seemed to glow in the bright white lights of her prepping station, and the irises had been reformed and stretched to model that of a cats. Her blank stare and inquisitive glances proved to only drive Clarke more on edge. Being unable to properly look at the bizarre woman in the eye, Clarke instead focused on her hands, whose nails had been filed into sharp points like the talons of a cat. Her name was Tigris- Clarke doubted that was her true name, but it definitely suited the woman.

Tigris offered no small talk or excited babbling that Clarke's other stylist had, they each had curled pastel colored hair pilled high on top of their heads. They reminded Clarke of the colorful pastries she had often seen piled up at the front of the bakery windows back in District Four with their overly poofy dresses, both with colors that matched their excessive amounts of hair and their perfectly glossed skin. Their names were Sherbet and Éclair in Clarkes mind she hadn't been listening when they had exclaimed excitedly their own names in the annoying chipper capital accent everyone had here. Sherbet had orange and pink hair and her twin Éclair had green and purple adorning her head. Clarke could barely stand to look at either of them for longer than a few seconds before the colors consumed her vision. It was all a bit distracting if she was honest.

Clarke worked on letting their voices drain into the back of her mind as they continued to work on her body to bring it up to capital perfection. Soon they had all filed out of the room saying her stylist would be in soon with her dress for the parade.

"Isn't so exciting?" Sherbet had exclaimed, she was practically vibrating with the effort to keep herself still as she pulled the last wax strip from Clarke's leg.

Her twin had nodded along in agreement looking just as marry as her sister had. They bounced out the door their chipper voices following them down the hall. Tigris left next, saying she'd be back later too help with her makeup. She filed out of the room without as much as a sound the shutting door echoing behind her, _silent as a predator stalking her prey_ , Clarke thought.

It was a few minutes later when her door opened again. A small girl entered, Clarke wouldn't call her a woman she looked to be barely older than Clarke herself. The girl was the most normal looking capital citizen Clarke had come across since her arrival earlier this morning.

The girl introduced herself as Glass. She had her blonde hair plaited down her back; it was much lighter than Clarke's, almost white compared to Clarke's golden honey colour. Clarke thought it could glow in the moonlight. Glass's eyes were an almost turquoise blue, probably artificially enhanced by the Capitals surgeons. They reminded Clarke of the colour of the waters of the cave pools found hidden in the rocky coast of District Four, she had often visited them as a child and dreamed of painting them one day.

Glass worked as quietly as Tigris, her small pale fingers weaving nimble little braids into Clarke's hair. She worked swiftly leaving no piece of hair out of place. It felt like hours when Glass finally turned Clarke around so that she could see herself in the mirror.

Clarke gasped taking herself in. She looked beautiful. Glass had weaved tiny shells and sea glass in amongst the delicate braids. She had pulled part of Clarke's hair into a small fishtail braid down her back and brushed out the rest to form soft curls. The seas glass and shells reminded Clarke of the beaches of District Four, if she closed her eyes and concentrated she could almost smell salt in the air.

"Now for the finishing touch." Glass's soft voice broke the silence. She reached behind her and placed something carefully onto the top of Clarke's head securing it in her curls.

It was a crown was made of the finest silver Clarke had ever seen and decorated with tiny little sea glass jewels. She looked like a princess or a sea queen.

Glass helped Clarke to her feet and into a dress she had designed for the parade. The fabric felt soft and silky against Clarke's skin. Glass spun Clarke around and told her to look up. Clarke was standing in front of a full body mirror but she barely recognized herself. The dress was a silvery blue base colour to match her crown. It had tiny shells and more sea glass woven into the fabric; Clarke had never seen anything like it before. The dresses sleeves fell off Clarke's shoulders and cascaded down her arm like tide pool ripples. The main body of the dress had a tight bodice hugging curves Clarke had never seen before, while the bottom half fell to the floor looking like the cress of a wave.

"This is beautiful." Clarke looked astonished when she spoke the compliment to Glass.

"Thank you," Glass looked down at the ground, "It was inspired by your mentor Bellamy."

"What?" Clarke turned her eyes from the mirror to Glass who looked a bit embarrassed.

"Yes he told me about the legend of the sea goddess Ursula. Have you heard it?" Clarke nodded her head.

Everyone in her district knew the story it was a sort of morbid bedtime tale for children. Clarke's own mother had once told her the tale to scare her from swimming in the ocean alone.

The tale goes that Ursula the sea goddess once fell in love with a mortal fisherman but he only pretended to love her back. One night she discovered him with another secret lover, in her anger she unleashed an all powerful sea storm that ravaged the land for 10 whole days. It was so strong that even whole cities were destroyed. Once the storm had ended Ursula felt remorse for the innocent lives drowned in her anger so she took their bodies and made them into the first mermaids and mermen so that they could live forever under the sea in the hopes that she might never be lonely again. She made their voices so lovely that when they sang they could make mortals lose their minds. Now the legend goes that if a mortal who has been unfaithful enters the ocean weather by foot or by boat she will send her sirens to sing their deadly song and sink the boat to the bottom of the ocean to avenge their scorned lovers. Should an innocent ever be drowned Ursula will save their soul and turn them into one of her sirens so they may forever serve her. The last part had always scared Clarke as a child.

Glass gave Clarke a small smile eagerly eyeing her work in the mirror, "It's incredible isn't?" Clarke didn't know if she was referring to the dress or the story itself.

* * *

Clarke rounded the corner in her parade dress making Bellamy's breath catch in his throat. But it was the scowl on her face when she saw him that made him smirk back at her. Clearly she wasn't very impressed with the idea.

Clarke grabbed him by the front of his shirt dragging him out of earshot of Annora or her prep team all of which Bellamy had heard them fussing over her makeup all the way down the hall.

"Why did you tell Glass that morbid story about Ursula? It's just a legend."

"Don't tell me you don't believe in legends princess," he smirked at her.

"I'm not playing games Bellamy this is my life!" Bellamy could see the fear behind her eyes.

"Oh but you are playing a game Clarke. The games begin the moment you are reaped not just when you enter the arena. That crowd out there is filled with sponsors who are going to send me money to keep your sorry ass alive in the arena. You need to make an impression."

"So parading around in a fictional sea queen costume is going to do that?"

"No Ursula was strong and powerful and most importantly lethal. I need you to be all those things if I'm going to get you out of this alive. I told the story to Glass so you would look the part, princess."

Clarke only gaped at him so Bellamy continued; "Now I need you to act the part. I need you to stand next to Finn on that chariot without complaint. I need you to keep your head held high like you did at the reaping. I need you to be the brave princess Panam saw when your name was called. Can you do that Clarke?"

Clarke nodded her face had gone stony as he finished his speech.

"Good." He sent her back over to the chariot where Annora was gesturing widely as all the other tribute were already on the back of theirs.

 _Here was go_ , Bellamy thought, as the chariots pulled out of the loading area and the crowd outside erupted into cheers upon seeing them. Bellamy stood next to Octavia and watched from the monitors as Clarke did just as she was told. She held her head high and smiled proudly at a passing camera. Finn with all of his bravado did the same, and Bellamy let out a nervous sigh for now everything was working out.

Someone tapped Bellamy on the shoulder, it was an Avox and based on the luxurious uniform she was wearing Bellamy could only assume she was one of Snow's. The Avox handed him a letter and left just as silently as she had appeared. The letter was written with expensive ink, it contained only a name, an address, and a time.

 ** _Cressida Fell. Cornell Street, apartment 401. 8:00pm._**

When Bellamy looked up from the letter he caught Octavia giving him a sad look, she gave his arm a small reassuring squeeze. Bellamy checked his watch; it was ten to 8 he had to leave now in order to not be late. He gave one last hopeful glance at the monitor as Clarke and Finn's chariot came to a stop in front of President Snow's podium; Clarke's confident expression never wavered for a second. _The brave princess_ , he thought before walking away.

* * *

Clarke sat on the round living room couch in the overly luxurious apartment for District Four. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, Octavia had been the last up, watching re-runs of the tribute parade with Caesar Flickerman's bright blue hair and loud laugh commenting on every detail. Eventually the brown haired girl had given up and gone to bed as well.

Clarke sat alone on the couch blue fur blanket pooled around her waist as Caesar went into aggravating detail over every little stitch of her parade dress. It was strange to hear herself being talked about on TV. She felt distant form the whole thing, yes she had worn the dress and yes she had looked beautiful but it hadn't been her- at least not the real her. This was who Glass had turned her into, the person Bellamy had told her stylist to make her look like.

 _Bellamy_. Her thoughts had spiraled around him for the last several hours. He hadn't been there when she got off the chariot. She had eagerly looked for him in the crowd waiting for the inevitable, "well done princess." Yet she couldn't find his face in the rush of mentors and stylists. He wasn't anywhere.

When she had asked Octavia as Annora herded them all into an elevator the girl had only offered a shake of her head and a quick comment.

"Bellamy had business he had to do, he'll be back later tonight." Than that was it. No other comments on what the elusive business was or why it was so important.

Clarke had wondered all through dinner and than anxiously eyed the door while everyone watched the parade after their meal. Still he hadn't come back. Now it was passed three in the morning and still he hadn't returned. It bothered Clarke her annoyance over Bellamy's disappearance making her unable to fall asleep. He spoke of trying to get her back home yet he disappeared when they needed to talk strategies about tomorrow? Clarke balled her hands into fists of the fur blanket. _Where was he?_

The program had switched to re-runs of the tribute reaping when the apartment door suddenly swung open and Bellamy Blake stumbled tiredly through. Clarke snapped her head around to look at him. His hair looked disheveled like someone had run their hands through it too many times. His grey button down shirt was wrinkled and hung off of him haphazardly almost like he'd thrown it on in a rush.

Upon seeing Clarke on the couch he made his way over to her. Something was off about him Clarke could tell as much. He wasn't the arrogant confident victor he'd been on the train or telling her off about her dress. He seemed different, his eyes didn't hold their mirthful lightness instead it was like darkness had seeped through at the corners overtaking some of the light.

Once he'd taken a seat to Clarke's right on the couch the smell hit her. It was sickly sweet with an over powering fruity scent. Why was he covered in women's perfume? Clarke wanted to ask him, she wanted to scream at him about weather it was really nessicary for him to screw his Capital girlfriend while she was preparing for a fight to the death? But she didn't the words died in her throat before she could even open her mouth. Neither spoke for a while, both looking straight ahead neither willing to shatter the silence that had formed between them.

Eventually Bellamy spoke, "You should get some sleep."

Clarke wanted to make a sarcastic comment but something in his voice when he spoke had told her not too.

Clarke nodded along, "You should sleep too."

Bellamy didn't give any indication that he had heard her, so Clarke got up and went to bed anyway. Bellamy wasn't her problem she shouldn't care weather he slept or not. But some part of her did, some small part cared for Bellamy Blake. It was that same part that had kept her up all night waiting for him.

As Clarke laid in bed she pretended she hadn't smelt that perfume wafting off of him, for some reason the lie made it easier for her to sleep.

 _I was a child and she was a child,_

 _In this kingdom by the sea,_

 _But we loved with a love that was more than love_

* * *

A/N: The quotes is from a poem called Annabel Lee by Edgar Allen Poe, it's one of my personal favorites. Please leave a review on how your liking the story so far! Thanks -BB


	3. Chapter 3: Serpents and Flowers

**A/N:** This chapter has some new characters from the show added into some scenes so please enjoy those! - BB

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Serpents and Flowers**

 _Once there was a boy._

 _His father gave him a falcon to train,_

 _Once trained he showed the bird to his father._

 _Instead his father took the bird, now tame and trusting,_

 _In his hands and broke its neck._

 _'I told you to make it obedient,' his father said,_

 _And dropped the falcon's lifeless body to the ground._

 _'Instead, you taught it to love you.'_

 _'This bird was not tamed; it was broken.'_

Clarke and Bellamy were the first up the next morning despite their late night. Clarke ran a hand through her curly hair, which had really turned into a bird's nest over night; Bellamy found his eyes attached to the motion he couldn't look away from her fingers. He knew he looked just as disheveled as her. His brown waves stuck up in all directions as he ran his hands through them again.

Bellamy poured two cups of coffee, and handed one to her. Clarke looked down at the black liquid with distaste; she'd never had the drink before. Bellamy laughed at her.

"Clarke just try it."

Clarke looked up at him almost startled, "You called me Clarke."

Bellamy looked down at his feet while rubbing the back of his neck, "Yeah I guess I did."

Bellamy hoped Clarke pretended she didn't see the faint blush rise on his cheeks. She cautiously brought the black steaming liquid up to her mouth and took the smallest of sips. She instantly recoiled at the bitter taste, placing the mug back onto the table.

The look on her face being too much for him as Bellamy try's in vain to stifle his laughs. Clarke stares at him for a second before she lets out a snort and joins him. It feels so good, he thinks, to laugh like this. Just to laugh and not care. Bellamy's face has turned red and he thinks hers probably has too but he doesn't care. Clarke has tears in her eyes and still she can't stop, Bellamy's whooping laughs fueling hers.

It's only after they've stopped and their breaths back to normal when Bellamy tells her, "I was going to say you should add sugar."

"You knew?" Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck again, this stupid smirk playing on his face.

"You jerk." Clarke laughs as she punches his shoulder with her fist. Bellamy laughs with her.

That's how Octavia finds the two, both red faced and giggling. She raises her eyebrow at her brother. Bellamy coughs in response trying to cover up his laugh.

Finn walks into the room a few minutes later giving Clarke and Bellamy strange looks as he piles food onto his plate. Octavia goes over what's going to happen today while everyone eats.

Bellamy followed Clarke into her room. Clarke turned around eyebrow raised when she took Bellamy in. His light demeanor had changed; his eyes and stance read all business when he spoke to her.

"Today is the first day of training, this is when you'll first meet all the other tributes."

Clarke's hands shook slightly when she spoke, "I know."

"Ok so I want you to stay away from any weapons stations. Stay by the edible plants or fire making stations."

Clarke folded her arms over her chest, an act Bellamy tried very hard to ignore.

"I'm not useless Bellamy, I know how to make fishing hooks and nets and set traps."

"Exactly Clarke! I need you to stay under the radar. Look weak and people will think your weak, than you won't be a target. Besides you still don't even know how to handle a knife you'd just embarrass yourself."

Clarke's eyebrows knitted together a sure sign he'd pissed her off.

"Bellamy I don't want to be looked at like I'm dirt on the bottom of someone's shoe."

Bellamy sighed, "Clarke who we are and who we have to be to survive are two very different things. You need to look weak so you can disappear that way the careers won't be gunning for you."

Clarke looked down at her shoes, but Bellamy desperately needed to see her eyes, he needed to know that she was with him-that she understood.

Bellamy cautiously wrapped his fingers under her chin bringing it up so that their gazes were locked on each other's. They stared at each other for a long time before Clarke spoke.

"Ok I get it, look like the delicate flower but be the serpent underneath it right?"

Bellamy let out a relieved breath, "Yes exactly."

"Oh and Clarke?', Bellamy called her name over his shoulder.

"Yes?" She turned from her spot in front of the mirror to look at him.

"Don't talk to anyone, and don't make friends."

* * *

Clarke took another deep breath before the elevator doors pinged open. _Here we go_. She walked in cautiously surveying the others. Finn had already started mingling in the crowd, she could see the number four of the back of his training suit as he stood in the center of a circle of careers from Districts 1 and 2 _. Clearly he had his own agenda when it came to allies._

Clarke went straight to the Earth Skills station and busied herself with weaving a net out of long blades of grass. This calmed her and reminded her of back home. Her father was a fisherman, she used to sit on the breath with him and weave nets for hours. He would tell her stories and myths about the sea, about mermaids and monsters. Her father was always the best at story telling, being able to do different accents for different characters always made her laugh as a kid. But now... now she purposely blocked him out of her mind.

Clarke had just finished a second fishing net when a boy walked up next to her. Clarke could see the number 8 stitched into his armband, _Murphy from district 8._

"Well I guess the princess isn't all looks, there's some brains in that pretty little head of yours too."

Clarke glared at the boy. Murphy had greasy looking hair that gave him an unhinged look. She didn't like him, and she definitely didn't like standing this close to him. The way his eyes slid over her figure left her feeling naked and afraid. Clarke wanted to scream she wanted to push him away.

"Leave her alone Murphy no one wants you here, go annoy someone else."

A dark skinned boy with kind eyes stood across the table from her. He barely looked up from the basket he was weaving, or trying to weave, as he spoke. Murphy glared at the boy.

"Don't worry Jaha I'll be coming for you next." Murphy's voice had lowered an octave; it had a sinister and cruel tone to it.

The other boy only rolled his eyes in response as Murphy moved onto the fire-starting station. Clarke knows Bellamy had wanted her to keep a low profile. His advice rang through her head, "Don't talk to anyone, and don't make friends." And still she couldn't help herself.

"I'm Clarke Griffin." She stuck her hand out to the boy.

"Wells Jaha District 3." Wells shook her hand and than went back to his poor attempt at a basket.

"Here like this," Clarke said as she reached across the table and demonstrated the right way to weave the grass blade together.

"Thanks, you're good at that."

Clarke shrugged in response, "Just something my father taught me."

Clarke smiled to herself, Wells wasn't that bad. They spent the day moving from station to station together. She learned that his father was the mayor of his district as well. They complained about having to go to all these political parties for their parents, and laughed about different politicians they'd both met. By the end of the day Clarke was feeling pretty good, well as good as someone who was entered into a game meant to kill her could feel.

* * *

Bellamy knocked on the apartment door two times before a women answered. She had pale skin with white crystal glowing just under the surface, her red hair had been let down in flowing waves and she wore the ugliest dress Bellamy had ever seen. It was green to match her colored contacts and stuck out at odd angles from her body. She looked like a pointed geometric shape he'd learned about in math class. The women's name was Cressida Fell and she'd booked another 'session' with him since she'd been so pleased with the last one. Bellamy hated himself for it he had agonized over coming here. But he had to; he had to do what Snow told him to.

"Well come in!" Cressida grabbed the front of his shirt pulling him through the entranceway. He gave her a confident smirk.

"In a hurry to get started are we?" His voice was low and husky dripping with sex appeal.

"I have a surprise for you," She spoke as she pushed him onto the bed. He was about to grab at her dress when she leapt out of his grip and into the adjoining bathroom.

"I'll be right back."

Bellamy huffed in annoyance; he'd wanted to get this over with so that he'd be back once Clarke had finished her training. He needed to go over future strategies and start knife training with her. Twenty minutes passed before the bathroom door opened again and the sight made Bellamy's mouth drop open.

Standing in front of him was Clarke- except that it wasn't her. Bellamy leaped off the bed, his back pressed up again the bedroom door. Cressida had put on a blonde wig to model Clarke's curls and braid from the reaping. She'd also taken out the green contacts and opted for blue ones to match Clarke's eyes. And to top the whole look off she wore a replica of the blue dress Clarke had worn when her name was called. Bellamy took a staggering breath, he couldn't fill his lungs with air-this was all too much for him.

Cressida walked up to him and pressed her hands against his chest, "Do you like it?" Bellamy's hands were shaking.

"Bellamy is everything okay?" Cressida took a small step back from him, her eyebrows knitted together and Bellamy suddenly thought of how Clarke did the same thing.

"N-no."

Bellamy tried to look anywhere else he couldn't focus on Cressida-he couldn't. She looked too much like Clarke- too much like the girl he couldn't have.

Cressida pouted sticking out her bottom lip at him, the sight made Bellamy want to vomit.

"This is what we do here in the Capital, we dress up to fulfill a fantasy for the other person." She was still had that stupid pout on her lips leaving Bellamy feeling annoyance boiling up under his skin.

"W-what fantasy." Bellamy was still having a hard time controlling his breathing.

Cressida gave him a coy smile, "Oh come on Bellamy you could barely keep your eyes off her at the reaping. Plus I've heard rumors."

She took a step closer to him again; he could smell her overly fruity perfume making him want to cover his nose.

"I thought this would be fun for both of us." Her lips had turned down as she spoke her tone now conveyed mild displeasure. Bellamy knew he had to change that, if word got back to Snow that he had been less than enthusiastic with one of his clients Bellamy really didn't want to know the consequences.

Bellamy smirked at her again stepping into her space as he pulled the blonde wig from her hair, "I do want to have fun, but without this costume. I just want you."

God he felt so sick saying that but it made Cressida smile again as she looked up at him through her fake eyelashes. She fell back onto the bed one strap of the dress falling off her shoulder. Her eyes had turned dark and hungry. Bellamy took a deep breath before following her onto the bed, and letting her pull at his clothes and kiss his skin. Her touches felt like acid had been poured on his body, he wanted to be very far away, he wanted to be 14 again before the games-before he was a victor. Hopefully Cressida would give him a good review to Snow and than he'd get a few days off to help train Clarke.

Bellamy made it back to the apartment with fifteen minutes to spare. In that time he took a long hot shower trying to scrub the events of the last few hours off of his skin. He turned the water all the way up letting it sizzle against his skin turning it red and raw. He scrubbed with soap until his body throbbed and still he didn't feel entirely clean. _This is what I deserve_ , he thought, _this is the fate a killer deserves._

* * *

Bellamy arrived at the table just as they all sat down. His hair was wet and tussled like he'd just stepped out of a shower. Little droplets of water still hung onto some of the tips of his hair. Clarke wanted to brush them away with her fingers. Bellamy looked up and held her stare Clarke felt a blush creep up onto her face.

Bellamy broke first turning his head to listen to Finn, "What?"

Finn had been talking about training today but Clarke had barely been paying attention.

"Yeah I was saying that Clarke made a friend today too."

Everyone at the table turned to look at her, Bellamy's gaze was accusing and tight. She would hear it from him later that she knew.

"Um yeah just the boy from District 3, I helped him weave a basket from grass blades."

Everyone turned back to their meals as Finn continued giving in detail his day with the careers and how he thought for sure they'd ask to be in an alliance with him. Bellamy kept his stare on Clarke; she could feel him boring a hole into the front of her head although she refused to look up from her plate.

After dinner Bellamy avoided her. She went to sit in the TV room and he'd get up off the couch to leave. She went to grab and extra pastry and he'd make sure he was at the other end of the table. It was like a game of him running away from her. Finally by the end of the night Clarke had had enough, when she saw Bellamy head down the hallway to him room she followed after him. He walked through the sliding door to his room and she made sure to slam it behind her as she entered.

Bellamy spun around looking surprised but not startled, Clarke put her hands on her hips. She had had just about enough of his games. The two stood off in silence.

Clarke through her hands up in the air, "God Bellamy would you just yell at me and get it over with! I'm done with you avoiding me."

Bellamy looked away from her, his hands clenched at his sides, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Clarke rolled her eyes at him, honestly sometimes he acted like a five year old.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, you've been off since Finn made that comment at dinner. So come out and say it! Say what's bothering you."

The knuckles on Bellamy's hands had gone white, he'd been clenching them too hard, "Fine! You want to know what's bothering me? Well princess you directly didn't follow my rule. Don't. Make. Friends. Period."

Clarke scoffed at him, "What's wrong with me making an ally? I thought that would be a good thing."

Bellamy let out an exasperated sigh that made her feel like she was an annoying child he had to teach.

"Finn didn't say ally he said _friend_. There is a big difference between being friends in the arena and being allies."

Clarke crossed her arms over her chest waiting for him to continue.

"An ally is someone you're with out of connivance, to help keep you safe until the time comes to break apart. When you have an ally you have to be able to accept the fact that you may have to kill them or they may try to kill you. If you have a friend in the games you'll never be able to do that, you'll trust them too hard and get too attached. Killing them will destroy you."

Bellamy had lost all his fight and anger by the end of his speech. He'd deflated onto his bed by the time he finished. Clarke had the sneaking suspicion that he was talking from experience; she took a seat next to him.

"Did that happen to you in your games?"

Clarke tried to remember Bellamy's games; all she could see was his trident and his sword cutting through kids' hearts. She tried to remember if he'd had an ally or a friend. Bellamy answered the question for her.

"There names were Monroe and Sterling, both from District 5. They were both very strong and loyal. From the first day of training we'd stuck by each other. In the games we watched each other's backs. But you can never protect people in the games. Never."

He held his hands in his lap; they'd started shaking as he took another uneven breath. Clarke covered them with her own trying to stop the trembling. She doesn't think he's ever let someone in or talked about them. Bellamy gave her a small smile before he continued.

"Sterling died first. There was an avalanche he was standing too close to the edge of the cliff. I lunged and grabbed the front of his shirt, but it ripped and he fell. It was my fault I couldn't save him. After that Monroe and I were careful, but there was a game maker trap. I'd told her to get some berries and I turned my back. When I looked back she was suffocating in a patch toxic gas that had been released. If I'd just been more carful. If only I'd seen the signs she might have lived."

Bellamy whispered the words by the end, Clarke could hear so much pain in his voice, it made her feel hollow sitting next to him.

Bellamy looked down at her their gazes locking; "Don't make friends in the games Clarke. You can't protect them-you can't protect anyone. They'll hurt you-their deaths-all they do is hurt you."

His eyes were so sad and painful Clarke was suddenly reminded of how much he'd changed from that lost 14 year old she'd known in the hallways at school. He was a far cry from the boy she remembered. _That boy is gone_ , she thought, _the games killed him._

 _And the boy never cried again,_

 _And he never forgot what he'd learned:_

 _That to love is to destroy, and that to be loved is to be the one destroyed._

* * *

 **A/N:** The quote is from snippets of a Clace quote from TMI. Hope you guys liked this chapter. How do you guys feel about the Cressida Fell incident? Leave a review Thanks - BB


	4. Chapter 4: Two Sugar Cubes

A/N: Enjoy the Bellarke things that happen in this chapter! - BB

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Two Sugar Cubes**

 _"I don't know what I want."_

 _"That's not true, you want what everybody wants."_

 _"What? Mysterious stranger who has all the answers."_

 _"You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure, and even a little danger."_

Bellamy took a deep breath, "Ok try again."

Clarke got back into her stance as Bellamy surveyed her silently checking and correcting her position. _She has to get this_ , he thought, _she has to or she'll never stand a chance._

Bellamy had set up a sort of target across the apartment. Him and Clarke stood by the door, across the apartment on a chair leaning up against the furthest most wall was a pillow. Clarke took aim again, butter knife posed shakily in her hand. The knife sailed through the air and crashed to the ground feet from the chair skidding to a stop against one of the chairs legs.

Octavia looked over from her seat on the round couch, giving Bellamy a pitying look. They had been at this for hours without any results.

Clarke sighed, "Come on Bell let's just face it I'm horrible at knife throwing."

Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, "No you aren't. Maybe you just need to see me do it again?" He picked up another butter knife from the dining table, Bellamy had had plates of them brought up to the apartment they now littered the floor across the room.

His stance was perfectly balanced. He took a deep breath, trying to concentrate with Clarke's probing stare, and brought his hand back behind his head. He let the knife fly silently as it sliced through the air; it made a deep thudding sound as it connected with the pillow on the chair. Clarke didn't seem impressed just annoyed that he'd hit the target. He gave her a proud smirk from which she promptly rolled her eyes and got back into her stance.

"No not like that."

Bellamy came up behind Clarke wrapping his arms around her, his back pressed up against hers. Clarke sucked in a breath when Bellamy's hands moved down to her sides straightening her back to model his. He felt her tense as he rolled their hips together.

"Do you feel that?" His voice was a whisper in her ear.

Clarke nodded Bellamy pretended he didn't see the slight blush that works its way up her neck and cheeks.

"Good, that's how the stance should feel." He moved his hands back up to her arms pulling one back into the correct position and holding one out in front of her for balance. Clarke's hair tickled Bellamy's neck as he bent down by her ear to speak.

"Ok now focus in on the target, eye the pillow. Your knife will fly where you look so it's very important to stay focused." Clarke shivered when his lips brushed her ear.

"Now when I tell you I want you to release the knife. Don't take your eyes off the target."

Clarke's coconut shampoo was infiltrating his carefully calculated focus Bellamy thought if he stayed this close to her for much longer he might do something he'll greatly regret. Bellamy could feel Clarkes every intake and exhale of breath against his chest, he wanted to keep her there safe and sound against him, he wanted to hold her and never let go.

"Now." Bellamy released Clarke's arms and stepped back just as she let the knife fly over her head. He held his breath hoping this worked.

A second later there was the thud of the knife hitting the pillow, and than the ripping sound of fabric as the knife not only hit the target but actually flew through the pillow and the chair sticking into the wall behind it.

Bellamy had a second to take in everything, Octavia's frantic clapping and Annora's horrified looks, before Clarke's arms wound themselves around his neck. She held herself against him her head tucked into the crook of his neck. Bellamy brought his arms up and pulled her even closer. They were both laughing as Bellamy lifted Clarke slightly into the air spinning her around, he could feel her surprised squeal against his neck he couldn't stop the goofy smile from spreading across his face. As Bellamy set her back gently on the ground she rose onto her toes bringing her face impossibly close to his.

"Thank you." Her breath ghosted over his lips. He wanted to press his lips against hers, he wanted to catch that breath between them their lips, he wanted to kiss her until she moaned his name, he wanted-

Clarke was tackled from behind by Octavia who hugged the other girl breaking their shared moment. Clarke was high in spirits the rest of the night throwing knife after knife into the pillow effectually destroying the poor silk thing to Annora's horror. "That was cashmere!" She had shrieked when she got an eyeful of the destroyed fabric. Bellamy laughed along with Clarke who threw another knife regardless, he didn't see Octavia's proud smirk as she watched her brother watch Clarke. He didn't see as she brought her hands together happily, or the tiny little smirk that worked its way onto her face.

* * *

 _Breath Clarke, breathe._ Her hands had started to sweat as she wiped them on her pant legs, the training suit fabric sucking up the extra moisture. This was it; she was about to be judged. Clarke looked to her left to where Finn had sat just minutes ago, he'd been called in first. She couldn't escape the dread that had curled into her stomach the moment he'd stood up, the words _I'm next_ set off alarms in her head.

Clarke took another shaky breath closing her eyes and bowing her head. She tried to think about what Bellamy had told her on the way down in the elevator. It had been just the two of them, they had had singular training earlier that morning. He'd taught her how to throw with two knives instead of one.

"Ready to be a badass Clarke?" He had said with that endearing little smirk on his face. Clarke wasn't really sure when his smirks had turned from something she loathed to something she found herself blushing over. But they had.

He'd come up behind her again, showing her the proper position, his hands moving down her sides to her hip and than up again to guide her arms. Clarke closed her eyes.

Their closeness had only intensified since the first knife throwing incident four days prior. Clarke had noticed their relationship shift as well. No longer were they fighting but actually listening to each other. Almost overnight he had gone from Bellamy to Bell, like a switch being flipped she was inevitably aware of his every move, every sound, every touch.

Bellamy himself had shifted closer to her as well. Clarke had noticed when they walked together now he was always right by her shoulder his arms occasionally brushing against hers. When they watched TV he always came and sat next to her even if there was an open spot at the other end of the couch. When they ate dinner he sat right across the table from her, their hands brushing each other's as they reached for their food. She'd noticed that he always made a second cup of coffee for her in the morning, and he always made sure to drop two sugar cubes into it. It was in the way they spoke too that had changed, when he said her name it was like he was caressing every syllable. She couldn't resist him, she couldn't not look at him when his voice sounded like that.

"Clarke Griffin, District 4. Please proceed down the hall." A monocratic voice over the loud speaker echoed through the room.

Clarke opened her eyes and stood up, her legs felt like jelly as she walked down the hall. Clarke took another deep breath as two peacekeepers ushered her inside a nondescript door. She could see the panel of game makers across the room on a raised platform, they all stood from their seats when she entered.

"You will have ten minutes to demonstrate to us your chosen skill." A man with blazing red hair and a very ugly suit said to her.

Clarke nodded at him in acknowledgment. She went to the trap station first making a fishing net in record time. This let her relax a little she could breath normally again. When her net was finished she stepped up to the station she had been dreading the most, _the knife throwing station._ She could feel all the game makers eyes on her back, _they're sizing you up_ she told herself.

Clarke picked up two lightweight knives, one for each hand. Getting into position she eyed the target ten meters from where she stood. Closing her eyes and taking deep breaths she tried to calm herself. _You can do this,_ she told herself, _you must do this_. Clarke thought of Bellamy she focused on his arms and how they'd felt when he'd wrapped them around her. She thought of the heat that spread over her skin where his hands made contact, and the blazing heat in his eyes when she'd first hugged him. She thought of his laugh and his hand when he ran it through his hair.

Clarke opened her eyes and let the knife fly.

* * *

Bellamy sat very tense on the couch as the capital emblem appeared on the screen. _This is it._ Caesar Flickerman appeared on the screen his blue hair and eyebrows catching the attention of everyone in the room. Bellamy glanced to his left at Clarke who was wringing her hands through the fur blanket again. She looked just as tense and nervous as he felt. On the other side of the couch Finn, as usual, looked perfectly at ease leaning against the back of the couch like he owned it. Bellamy looked back down at Clarke's hands as she white knuckled the fur blanket.

Caesar had moved from District 2 to District 3. They were next. Without giving it much thought Bellamy reached over across the space between him and Clarke, and pulled her left hand from the blanket with his right. He laced their fingers together just as Finns face appeared on the screen.

The whole room held their breaths as a number 9 flashed up on the screen. The room applauded Finn who looked like he'd expected this entire thing, although he did seem rather pleased when Octavia had risen from her seat to hug him. Bellamy hadn't moved a muscle, neither had Clarke, their eyes both glued to the screen as her face popped up.

"Clarke Griffin with a final score of-"

Bellamy sucked in a breath, he thought his lungs might constrict from the tension. His body sat ridged against the cushioned couch.

"Seven." Caesar smiled at the camera before moving onto the District 5 tributes.

Bellamy sat shell-shocked for a moment unable to move- to comprehend. Clarke let go of their joined hands and instead threw herself into him, his body shifting to the side by the force of her weight landing against him. Bellamy snapped back into action.

"I did it! We did it!" Clarke was practically screaming in his ear. Bellamy joined her, nodding his head at her.

He laughed when he saw tears pooling at the corners of Clarke's vision, "You did it princess! You really did it!"

The smile Clarke sends him would've sent him falling to his knees if he had been standing. He would've fought through another Hunger Games just to see her smile at him like that again. To let him see something so pure, and honest, and open on her face he'd have toppled down mountains.

 _"So, Damon, what do you want?"_

 _"I want you to get everything you're looking for."_

* * *

A/N: So my obsession with the Vampire Diaries has leaked into my bellarke writing ;) The quote is one of my fav Delena quote. Please leave a comment of how your liking the story so far!- BB


	5. Chapter 5: All Too Late

**A/N:** Ok so this chapter was actually kinda sad to write. Please enjoy!-BB

* * *

 **Chapter 5: All Too Late**

 _It's been a long day without you, my friend_

 _And I'll tell you all about it_

 _When I see you again_

Bellamy stood on the outside of Clarke's dressing room, she was in there right now getting changed with Glass into her interview dress. Bellamy tried not to but he could hear them faintly through the door. He was leaning against the wall next to it, they'd been in there for hours. He'd finished up with his 'sessions' early with hopes of giving Clarke some last minute advice before she walked out onto the stage tonight, but she'd been sequestered in her dressing room with Glass. He was absolutely not allowed in there according to Annora. "That's a _woman's_ dressing room Bellamy. Whatever mentor advice you have can wait," she'd said in her chipper capital accent before walking, or attempting to walk with her mile high heels on, down the hall.

So here Bellamy was leaning against a cold grey metallic wall and trying to block the girls voice from behind the door out of his mind. It had been working too that was until he heard his name. Than it was nearly impossible not to listen in.

"You're going to look gorgeous tonight!" A high excited voice had exclaimed, Bellamy assumed it was one of the stylist Clarke said she's named after pastry desserts, he couldn't imagine Glass ever being that excited about anything.

"Yes and I'm sure Bellamy will pay _close_ attention to you." This voice had a more sinister intention. It set off alarms in Bellamy's head.

Strangely he wanted to know Clarke answer, he found himself leaning towards the door, his ears searching to pick up every little sound. Straining to hear her voice.

Chipper laughs echoed through the door, Bellamy could only assume was based on an unpleasant glare given by Clarke. He could almost picture her exact face in his mind. Her eyebrows would knit together and her eye would pin you with so much judgment you were likely to combust. Than her lips would curl down into a straight line and her lower lip would puff out slightly, than her cheeks would flush pink as she prepared to nail you with the spite of her words. Bellamy smiled slightly, _his princess_.

"It's not like that, Bellamy wouldn't look at me any different in a dress than in sweatpants. He already pays close attention."

Bellamy had to catch himself from falling to the ground. That was not the answer he was expecting from her. The voices on the other side of the door had silenced. She couldn't- no it was impossible- Clarke couldn't under any circumstances feel anything for him. She was going into the hunger games to die. _Maybe that's the point,_ Bellamy thought, _she's going into a game designed to kill her maybe she just doesn't want any loose strings._

Bellamy sank down to the floor his head hitting against the cool metal. He was her loose string, the one person she couldn't knot up and tie off. The one person she couldn't say goodbye too, the person keeping her from giving up. Bellamy closed his eyes, he wasn't going to let her tie him up because the moment she did is the moment she'd stop fighting because to Clarke if she has no loose strings she has no reason to see anyone ever again- no reason to fight.

* * *

Clarke wiped her hands against the side of her dress for the thousandth time since standing back stage. Her fingers grabbed onto the side of her dress like she had done at the reaping, trying to steal any comfort she can from the gesture.

Finn was onstage right now with Caesar looking strong and confident and completely controlling the crowd. They hung on his every word, laughing at his jokes and sighing when he mentioned District Four, he had some of them on the edge of tears. Clarke was jealous of him for that, she'd never been good with people or manipulation. She had always thought logically with her head, she didn't know how to think with her emotions or how to dictate another persons. _Less than a minute left_ , she could hear her heart hammering in her chest.

Finn lifted his hands as the crowd erupted, _thirty seconds left_. _Breath Clarke breathe,_ she told herself. But the panic was rising, hammering between her ribcage and up into her throat, she suddenly had the sense of her throat closing up and the air being sucked out of her lungs.

Than he was standing in front of her and pulling her into his arms without a single word spoken between the two. His arms felt like safety, like home.

"Breath Clarke."

He rubbed his hands up and down her back while she inhaled his scent, sweat and leather and cotton. Home. She focused on the warmth of his chest and the feel of his hands against the exposed skin on her back, he infiltrated her every sense, gradually her throat loosened and she was able to breathe normally again.

"Remember confidence is key, keep that pretty blond head up, don't look scared and don't look confused. Look calm and collected." He whispered gently against her ear. She nodded slightly not ready to move.

Suddenly Bellamy's arms were gone and she was being pushed up the ramp and onto the stage, caught like a deer in the headlights.

"Ah there she is! There's our own blonde princess." The crowd cheered her name as Caesar ushered her into a seat opposite him while Clarke tried not to stare at his orange eyebrows that matched his hair colour perfectly. Just out of the corner of her eye she could see Bellamy standing in the stage wings, watching her.

"Now you really do look lovely this evening. Doesn't she? Very regal."

Many members of the crowd cooed their agreements, as Clarke brushed out a wrinkle in her skirt. Glass had her in a blue evening gown with off the shoulder sleeves. The top of her dress was a lace see through design that was fitted to the waist, from there the dress fanned out in layers of fine blue silk. Glass had again woven a white and blue crown into Clarke's hair, which hung in wavy locks down her back. Clarke had to admit she felt like a princess, she thought that must have been what Bellamy was going for because again Glass had mentioned that he'd helped with the design.

Clarke tilted her chin up to stare even eyed at the camera, "Yes my stylists did an amazing job. The crown by far is my favorite." She reached up to tap lightly against the jewels.

Bellamy smiled encouragingly at her. _Well_ , she thought, _at least I've said one thing right._

Caesar raised his eyebrow at her, "Are you someone's princess at home as well?"

Clarke couldn't stop the blush that had appeared on her cheeks. There was only one boy who came to mind, one who she had no chance with.

Shaking her head slightly Clarke eyed her toes, "No I'm afraid I kind of flew under the radar when it came to boys back home."

Off to the side of the stage Clarke could see Bellamy purge his lips, like he was trying to figure something out.

Caesar crooked his head to the side at her, " Do you think that flying under the radar technique will help you in the games?"

Clarke let out a thankful breath, finally a subject her and Bellamy had practiced before.

"Yes most definitely, it will help me keep a target off my back so to speak." The audience laughed at her poor attempt at humor, Clarke's fingers shook slightly from where they gripped the fabric of her dress.

Clarke could see Bellamy nodding along to her answer, _maybe she could do this._ Caesar asked Clarke a few more questions about her strengths and her strategies going into the games, all the while Bellamy prompted her from back stage by tapping his chin or his lips or just simply nodding his head. They were warnings to get her to raise her chin or smile more at the camera. Clarke was sure the interview must be almost over when Caesar asked the next question.

"Well now that we've gone over your strategies for tomorrow, I've just got to ask the question we've all been _dying_ to know the answer too."

"Ask away Caesar." Back stage Bellamy's eyebrows had knitted together, whatever Caesar was about to ask he definitely hadn't anticipated it.

"What is it like to have the great Bellamy Blake as your mentor? I mean we've all heard the rumors, especially some rather scandalous ones involving you and him. But what is he really like?" Caesar raised his orange eyebrow at her, the act and the question causing Clarke to squirm slightly in her seat. The crowd hushed around them

She took a deep breath, "Bellamy's a bit of a celebrity back home in District Four so is his sister Octavia, and so I was a bit nervous about meeting him for the first time. Believe me we didn't agree on most things," The crowd laughed when Clarke rolled her eyes.

"But he really had a caring and strong heart. Once Bellamy Blake is on your side he'll stay there until the very end. I won't admit to any truth about the rumors involving him and I, but I can definitely say he is a person I trust completely."

Clarke said the last part not looking at Caesar or the camera, but locking her eyes with Bellamy who stood just out of view across the stage. He held her gaze unwaveringly, all strength and confidence. _Until the very end_ , she thought. Almost like he could read her mind, he mouthed those same words back to her. Clarke pretended she didn't feel her heart flutter at the sight.

* * *

The elevator whirled up, it moved so fast Bellamy almost felt like they were flying. He had been dreading this very elevator ride for days now, sleepless nights and crude nightmares.

Clarke stood ridged next to him, her hair brushing his shoulder. _She looks like she hadn't slept in days_ , Bellamy thought. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin was far to pale. Bellamy was worried because she hadn't said anything all morning, just stared blankly out into space. He'd told her to go to bed early last night that she would need her sleep- it could be her last good sleep for days. But of course she hadn't listened to him. Bellamy couldn't blame her though, he remembers the night before his games, and how he couldn't close his eyes for even a second.

He reaches over slowly, keeping his head looking forward, and loops his fingers through hers. It's a small gesture but it's enough that some of the tension in Clarke's shoulders lessons. They don't look at each other and they don't speak, they just know.

The elevator comes to stop and the doors open letting bright sunlight infiltrate their tiny little space. Clarke's not moving so Bellamy pulls her through the door and out into the sun. He lets their hands drop, and still he can't look at her- he can't bear to see her face, knowing it could be for the last time.

Than Clarke turns to him and she looks into his eyes for the first time since last night. He lets her see everything, he bears his entire soul in his eyes and she does the same. Bellamy just knows without a hint of a doubt that he loves her and that she loves him, and that somehow in this tragic story they found each other all too late. He wants to cry, and combust on the spot, he wants to kill every peacekeeper; he wants to hold her in his arms and dare Snow to try and take her away from him. But most of all he wants her, every part of her. Weather they're fighting or laughing or touching or crying. He wants to experience every single piece that makes up Clarke; he wants to drown himself in her.

And Clarke without speaking wraps her arms around his neck and hold herself against him, he bends his head down so that it's sitting in the crook of her neck. He breaths in the scent of her hair and tries to memorize it in his head so that when he closes his eyes it'll be like she never left. He doesn't know when he started crying and he can't stop, he can feel the tiny drops of Clarke's tears against the fabric of his shirt as well. For some reason this hurts more. So Bellamy with out comprehending it himself begins to speak or rather whisper in her ear.

"In peace may you leave this shore," his voice is soft as he says the words to an old poem from District Four. It's something their people use to say goodbye.

"In love may you find the next," He feels Clarke exhale of breath as she speaks the next line to him.

"Safe passage on your travels," His voice sounds thick and heavy, he wants to hold onto her forever.

"Until our final journey to the ground," Clarke pulls her head back to look into his eyes when she speaks the words, like she'd searching for something and all too afraid to find it.

"May we meet again." Bellamy sucks in a breath, because this is the end she's really leaving.

"May we meet again." She echoes the words back at him; their sound resonates in the air around the couple. Bellamy can't breath, he can't think, he can't look away from her for fear that he will never see those eyes alive again.

Clarke rises onto the tops of her toes and plants a firm kiss on his cheek. She than slowly slides out of his arms and steps away. Bellamy doesn't protest, he lets his arms hang lifelessly by his sides as he watches her walk towards the hover craft that will take her into the arena. He doesn't blink once, his eyes following the head of blonde hair walk up the ramp into the hovercraft and out of sight.

Bellamy doesn't move as he watches the hovercraft fly into the air and out of his sight line. He stays standing on the roof trying to grasp at everything he just lost in an instant. Eventually it's Octavia who finds him and drags him back into the building. He tries not to think that he might have to watch her die in only a matter of hours.

 _We've come a long way from where we began_

 _Oh, I'll tell you all about it_

 _When I see you again_

* * *

 **A/N:** sorry I know this chapter is kinda bittersweet but I promise more bellarke in later chapters. Please leave a review they mean a lot, thanks- BB


	6. Chapter 6: Dragon Fire Veins

**A/N:** please enjoy! Sorry ahead of time for the sad parts.-BB

 **Chapter 6: Dragon Fire Veins**

 _This is for monster girls_

 _Who have no stars in their skin_

 _Only fire and iron and scales_

Glass doesn't speak the whole time as she helps Clarke into the matching gear each tribute must wear. The material is skin tight and breathable, probably meant for a warmer climate or maybe even water. Clarke hopes the arena involves the later option being from District Four would give her a slight advantage. She is also given a type of rain jacket and slick watertight boots. Glass helps her zip up the front of the jacket because Clarke's fingers are shaking too badly to be much of any use.

Next Glass sits Clarke down on a chair and carefully braids her blonde hair back and out of her face. She lets the braid fall down Clarke's back once she is done. Clarke brings her fingers up to inspect Glass's work, her fingers lightly press against the tight weave of the braid coming to the realization that it's the same braid she had worn for her reaping. Clarke turns around to question Glass who was busy pulling something out of her pocket, she hands it to Clarke.

It's a bracelet made from fishing rope with blue sea glass weaved into it. From the detail of the weaving and the perfect placement of the sea glass Clarke could only assume it was done by someone who had practiced the art for years. _Someone from back home_ , she thought, _someone with patient hands_.

"It's from Bellamy." Glass said, they were the first words she spoken aloud to Clarke all morning.

Clarke's fingers paused in their inspection of the sea glass when she heard Glass speak. _Bellamy made this for her?_ Clarke smiled down at the little bracelet, a small private smile. She imagined he was here to give it to her, she imagined that she'd rise onto her toes and kiss him – a proper kiss this time- as a thank you for the gift. She imagined that she'd pull back to see that sweet little blush ghost over his cheeks and make his freckles stand out more. Instead she shook her head slightly and held out her left wrist for Glass to clasp the bracelet around.

"It must have taken him quite awhile." Glass said when Clarke offered no words.

"It is beautiful." Clarke said finally, her fingers once again brushing lightly over the sea glass. _To remember_ , she thought, _he made this so she'd have a little piece of home with her- a little piece of him._

In her mind Clarke could see Bellamy crunched over a chair the small strands of rope in his hands. How he made tiny precise knots despite the size of his fingers, and how he'd be carful when weaving in the sea glass pieces because it had to be perfect for her. The mental image made Clarke want to cry all over again.

A stark beeping noise interrupted her thoughts. Clarke knew what that noise meant; she had 10 seconds to get into the glass tube that would send her up into the arena. With a final saddened look Glass ushered her over to the tube.

"Thank you." Clarke said, toeing the entrance to the glass cylinder.

Glass nodded her eyes suddenly turning stormy, "You show them what strength is. You show them how to be brave Clarke Griffin. You show them that a true princess has dragon fire in her veins."

Clarke was too shocked to speak; those were the most words Glass had ever said to her at once. They sounded like something Bellamy would have told her. So Clarke gave her head a firm nod and stepped into the tube, she tried to prepare herself for whatever fate lay above her. _Breath and be brave_ , Clarke thought, _breath and be brave_.

The door to her tube sealed shut and began to rise steadily, Clarke's breathing became erratic as the ceiling of her tube opened and she found herself standing on a platform in the arena surrounded by water.

The countdown began as Clarke tried to figure out her plan. _Sixty seconds Clarke! Come on think._ They all seemed to be situated on floating platforms in a huge lake. In the center sat a small island covered in supplies and the cornucopia, which was currently projecting the countdown clock. In between the island were little floating docks with small packs and supplies littering them. _Forty seconds, think!_ Clarke swiveled her head around to look behind her, there were rocky mountainous cliffs and what looked like the beginnings of a dessert, but it was a long ways away, she'd have to hope she had enough stamina to make a swim like that. In front of her on the other side of the cornucopia was what looked like jungle or forest maybe even a swamp area, but in order to get there she'd have to swim right by all the other tributes and hope she could avoid detection. _Twenty seconds! Ok Clarke just breathe_.

About ten feet in front of Clarke's platform sat a floating dock and on it a small backpack. _That could be filled with valuable supplies_ , Clarke thought. She was a fast swimmer that she knew, but Bellamy had warned her about going after supplies. "Clarke promise me you will turn and leave the supplies behind," he had said to her only last night. His voice had been almost pleading with her. Clarke drew a short breath and positioned herself towards the small dock eyeing the backpack. _Sorry Bell_ , she thought, _but I need that backpack_.

Clarke focused on steadying her breathing as the counter hit ten seconds.

 _Nine_ , she got into a diving position.

 _Eight_ , Clarke looked down her bracelet.

 _Seven_ , she hoped she wasn't about to make a fatal decision.

 _Six_ , like a switch her mind turned into survivor mode.

 _Five_ , her breathing slowed, she looked ready to kill.

 _Four_ , Clarke's hands became clammy where they held onto her platform.

 _Three_ , Clarke stole one last look at the bracelet _. I promise_ , she thought, _I promise to try_.

 _Two_ , Glass's last words came back to her, "You show them that a true princess has dragon fire in her veins."

 _One_ , _I can do this Bell_ , she willed her thought to reach him across the miles of sky that separated them. _I can win_. A loud bang of a gong sounded and Clarke leapt into the water.

* * *

Bellamy looked down at the drink Octavia had thrust into his hands with distaste, the sweet smelling liquid making his stomach curl. All around him people mingled and laughed. He was at a sort of party thrown by Snow for all the mentors and other higher up Capital sponsors. _These are the people who could save Clarke_ , Bellamy thought. All the walls around the room were cluttered with giant TV screens showing previews of the arena, Bellamy's stomach felt like lead as he looked at them.

 _"_ Bell at least try to look like you're enjoying yourself." Octavia said from his side.

"Why? I feel miserable, they should be too."

Octavia rolled her eyes, "Look over there," She nodded her head across the room towards a young woman who looked very familiar. Bellamy sighed, _Cressida Fell._

Cressida upon seeing Bellamy weaved her way through the crowd and towards him. Bellamy was not pleased to see that Octavia had managed to slip away before she arrived.

"Bellamy Blake." Cressida greeted him with a coy smile and then dissolved into a fit of giggles. _Great_ , Bellamy thought, _she's drunk_.

"Cressida Fell." Bellamy offered the same greeting with his signature smirk. Cressida laughed again before caressing his upper arm.

"I haven't seen you recently." She pouted at him making Bellamy want to vomit all over again.

"Yes I've been very busy lately."

The martini glass in Cressida's left hand dipped precariously to the side, Bellamy was sure she was about to dump the whole thing down the front of another one of her hideous dresses. She looked like a giant green pea tonight with a bubbly green felt dress and matching green balls in her hair.

"Isn't this so exciting? Another Games!"

Bellamy swallowed the urge to roll his eyes at her comment. All these capital people were the same, making light of murdering children. Here he was stuck at a party with a drunken girl while Clarke was only minutes away from possible death.

The TV screens flashed and a picture of the Panam emblem appeared.

"It's starting!" Cressida was practically vibrating on the spot. She let go of Bellamy's arm and skipped over back across the room to a group similarly dressed capital women. Bellamy didn't try to hide his relief.

The cameras panned around the arena as the different tributes were raised up onto their platforms. Bellamy eyed the screen anxiously, his palms sweaty where they hung by his side. The camera moved over the faces on the forest side of the arena before panning over to the other side. Bellamy's eyes were drawn to her hair first; it looked like it had during the reaping. The camera panned low enough for Bellamy to see his bracelet on her wrist, he smiled glad Glass had been able to get it to her.

He'd been working on the bracelet periodically over the last week after he realized Clarke didn't have anything to bring into the arena with her. He'd been inspired by her crown during the tribute parade and decided to make the bracelet that very night. He'd been so carful in making the knots and handling the sea glass, he only figured out why this morning. He _loved_ her, and this bracelet is a symbol of that love. It's the only comfort he can give her in the arena- the only piece of him she'll have.

Countdown had begun, he prayed that Clarke just took his advice and dived towards the mountains behind her. The camera panned away before he could see if she'd made a decision.

The gong of the clock ticking down to zero hit and Bellamy still couldn't see her, the camera's were panning everywhere in fast short flashed trying to catch the most brutal killings in all their glory. He caught a flash of blonde hair swimming towards one of the floating docks. _That has to be her_ , he thought, _no one else is fast enough_. The camera tracked her movements as she approached the dock, no one else in sight; Bellamy gripped the glass of his drink tightly. _Please just let her live, let her not be seen_. Clarke's movements were fast and strategic, her hand moved like lightning hitting the earth, quick and deliberate. She snatched at the strings to one backpack and dove back down again. Bellamy knew she needed to swim as far under the water without coming up for air as possible because if she didn't one of the careers would surly see her from their spot of the center island.

As if hearing him Clarke stayed under as long as possible moving towards the mountains and away from most of the other tributes. It was only than after the initial bloodbath was finished did the Gamemakers being to set off the bangs of the canon, signaling a dead tribute. Bellamy counted 13, and how glad he was that none of them were Clarke. 13 children dead within the first five minutes of the Games.

The camera's had panned back to Clarke and based on where she was headed Bellamy could tell she had a long swim on her hands, longer by far than any of the other tributes. _This is good_ , he thought, _they won't try to follow her_. The camera's moved onto the careers and other tributes, Bellamy felt confident enough that Clarke was safe for now to be able to take his focus off the screens. He had been talking to Lincoln, another mentor for district 11, when he heard Caesar's voice come through the TV speakers.

"Ok ladies and gentleman it seems Clarke Griffin, the female tribute from District Four, has run into quite a bit of trouble."

The screen switched from Caesar's obnoxious hair to Clarke swimming in the water covered in blood. The sight made Bellamy's words die in his throat. _Clarke!_ She had blood pouring from her eyes, nose, ears and mouth. It was flowing out of her in massive amounts turning the water around her a sick deep red colour making Bellamy's stomach flip.

"It's a nasty trick the Gamemakers have installed here. You see once you cross over a certain part in the water is turns into an enhanced blood thinner. For all of you out there who don't know what that is, it literally causes your blood to become thin enough to pour out of you, and in serious cases can lead to death by blood loss."

Bellamy's eyes darted to the map pegged up on the wall to the right of one of the main TVs. On it were 11 tiny red dots all showing a tribute's specific location as they moved through the arena. Clarke's dot was the only one left in the water, from what Bellamy could tell she was very close to the mountain shoreline, if she could make it to the beach she had a chance to live.

"If Miss Griffin can reach the beach she'll have a fighting chance, that is if she can stay awake long enough." Bellamy wanted to punch the TV screen right between Caesar's perfect orange eyebrows.

He continued to watch horror struck as Clarke began to slow in her movements as she noticed the red water around her. Bellamy waited for the inevitable shock and than screaming panic. _Keep it together princess_ , he thought. She needed to keep a level head to get herself out of this situation; if she panicked she'd waste precious energy instead of getting ashore. Bellamy watched as Clarke brought a hand up to her bloody face, and than closed his eyes when her shocked and scared scream echoed through the room his hands closing into fists.

Clarke's screams had been muffled as her head fell below the surface of the water. Bellamy knew what that meant; she didn't have enough strength to keep herself a float anymore. _God damn it Clarke, you should have just left the bloody backpack on that damn dock_ , he had wanted scream at her. But instead he watched helplessly as she struggled to hold her head up above the surface of the water, her hands still holding tirelessly onto the backpacks strings. Bellamy shook his head, _why did she have to be so stubborn?_ Bellamy watched as her eyes became gradually more clouded and distant as the harsh waves crested over her head. _Come on Clarke_ , he thought, _just make it to the beach baby, come one just a little further._

Clarkes legs kicked out one after another in feeble attempts to propel her towards the beach, she could see it clearly now. The waves crashed into her body pushing and spinning her in all directions. When she tried to right herself another wave would hit and she'd be smashed around again. In the middle of all this Bellamy heard a laugh bubble up across the room, in that moment he knew what he needed to do. Clarke needed help and there was only one way he was going to be able to make that happen.

Cressida Fell sat across the room giggling incoherently with her friends. Bellamy stole one last look at Clarke who had disappeared below the waves again, and made his way across the room.

"Bellamy your back!" Cressida pulled him down onto the seat right next to her, she sagged her body into his making Bellamy want to squirm.

"Cressida please introduce me to your friends here." He said with his charming smirk and a wide sinful grin.

"This is Geneora and Fauna." The two girls smiled coyly at him, with matching alcohol dulled eyes.

"We were just discussing your tribute, she has the most dreadful hair don't you think Fauna?" Cressida leaned forward letting Bellamy see down the front of her dress he tried to look very interested in her chest whilst trying to ignore her obvious jab at Clarke.

"Yes," Fauna agreed, "Blonde really had been out for ages, she's practically ancient." Then she dissolved back into obnoxious giggles at what Bellamy could hardly tell.

"Actually Clarke is what I came to talk to you about." Bellamy's comment was directed at Cressida, turning his back to her friends who seemed newly interested in a drink waiter.

"Hmm does this have anything to do with sponsorship money?" She pitched forwards trying to tap a finger against his chest.

"Maybe, or maybe I just miss your company." He wiggled his eyebrows at her. _God Blake you're really laying it on thick now_.

"I think," She patted his chest, "Your lucky I like you." She smiled sloppily at him.

"Maybe I can consider giving out some money if you and me spent some free _quality time_ alone together." She leaned in closer to him when she spoke, her alcohol scented breath wafting over his face.

He smirked confidently at her, "Why don't we find a private place right now where we can spend that _quality_ time together."

* * *

Clarke chocked coughing out what seemed like a river of water onto sand as she let her lungs fill with oxygen. She coughed a few more times, the back of her throat burning as she tried to take in her surroundings.

She was on a beach, somehow after passing out in the water she'd managed to be pushed ashore. To her right she could see her soaked backpack with its continents spilled out all over the sand. _Great hopefully it's not all useless now._

She remembers the moment she knew she was in trouble; when the water turned red and she couldn't stay awake, and her backpack started feel like it was filled with lead rocks. She remembers the panic of trying to keep her head above water, and the even more so when she had started to pass out how she'd barely been able to move her body. _The water must have been some type of blood thinner_ , Clarke knew that. Her mother had taught her about some of them when she had started her training to be a doctor, but she'd never heard of one at this level before. _Welcome to the hunger games_ , she thought, _where even water can kill you_. That's when she saw the silver parachute fall from the sky and land a few inches from her arm.

Her whole body felt like it had been sucked of strength. She could hardly move her arm and fingers to uncap the package. There was a card on the top she brought it closer to her face to read.

 _Princess,_

 _Take two of these tablets to help you get your strength back, can't have you collapsing in the middle of battle._

 _You can't give up Clarke, your fights not over yet._

 _\- Bell_

Clarke smiled, the pad of her thumb tracing over his name printed at the bottom of the card.

"Thank you." She said this to the air but a part of her knew Bellamy was watching her somewhere- that he'd see she was still fighting.

She downed two of the tablets and instantly felt better, she still didn't have the strength to stand but she was slowly regaining movement in her limbs. _It must be a blood thickener_ , she thought, _it'll help rebuild more red blood cells faster_. Her eyelids suddenly felt increasingly heavy. _Maybe I can sleep for a little_ , she thought, _just for a minute_. She dreamed of dark curls and easy smiles.

 _This is for the girls who_

 _Learn to breath fire over mist_

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! As always please leave review. Oh! This quote is from my tumblr page, it was speaking to me so I decided to include it. Thanks again - BB


	7. Chapter 7: Cuts and Bruises

**A/N:** So this chapter does include a flashback and a dream sequence, so enjoy them! This was my favorite chapter to write so far! -BB

 **Chapter Summary:** We learn how Clarke and Bellamy first met when they were children.

 **Chapter 7: Cuts and Bruises**

 _We were both young when I first saw you._

 _I close my eyes and the flashback starts:_

 _I'm standing there on a balcony in summer air._

It takes Clarke three days to regain her strength. In the first day she can barely sit up, by the second day she is able to drag herself into one of the rocky caves by the base of the cliffs for protection. She likes the cave, they remind her of the ones she used to explore as a child, and the one time she met a boy in one of them. _Don't think about that Clarke_ , she warned herself, _you can't think about that here._

The cave has it's own source of water, little pools in amongst the stalagmites, that are safe for her to drink. By the third day she is able to walk around and hunt for food. She finds none and returns to the cave empty handed by dusk.

For Clarke the nights are the worst, they're when she feels the most alone and the most scared. It's so dark in the cave that every little sound brings her whole body to attention thinking this could be the moment someone jumps out and kills her.

The nights also bring the holograms in the sky; they chill her to the bone. Children, children she saw alive only days ago now dead. Since the bloodbath two more have been killed probably from the careers, who view killing as some sick sport. Most of Clarke is terrified of ever coming face to face with them, but another part- one she keeps hidden- hopes that she will find them and kill every single one of them.

The nights also give her a lot of time to think, tonight the fourth night since the games started, she looks up at the fake starts shinning above and she thinks of a night years ago- a night where she met someone who, years later, would change her life.

Clarke had been eight at the time, and it was a cool summer evening that found her in a small cave by the coast. This was before the Hunger Games even existed in her tiny head; she was a child innocent and free.

Her parents were fighting again, so Clarke had snuck out through her bedroom window and ran along the beach to the cave- her cave- as she called it back than. It was small with its mouth partially hidden by a wall of rocks; only those who knew of its specific location could ever find it. That was one part that Clarke had always loved, the cave was her only place to be alone. The only place she'd never be found.

She could tell tonight was going to be good night, the stars shone above unobscured by clouds. A slight breeze blowing off the ocean wound around her like a warm hug as it whipped through her hair. Here she was home- here she was free.

She was sitting at the edge of the caves mouth letting her bare feet dangle down towards the sea below, it would surge up and greet her tiny feet with every wave before being pulled back into the big dark ocean. That's when she heard it, the low mutterings of an angry boy. The next second a rock came flying out of nowhere and cut a gash along her cheek. She brought her fingers up to her face, feeling the wet blood stick to them. Clarke turned her head just in time to see an angry faced boy turn the corner of the caves mouth and stare shell shocked at her, his foot in mid motion to kick another rock. She had tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.

"I'm sorry," The boy said, as he approached her she could see the beginnings of a bruise forming on his right eye.

"I didn't know anyone else was going to be in here." He spoke again as he took a seat next to her. Clarke thought he looked about ten, although he was much taller than she would have expected any ten year old to be.

He glanced at her cheek once more before dropping his eyes guilty towards the sea below them. He dangled his feet into the sea as well, except the water came up well past his ankles. They are both silent for a long time, so long that the throbbing of Clarkes cheek begins to stop.

"What happened to your eye?" It's the first words she's said to him since he arrived.

The boy rubs the back of his neck still refusing to look at her, "I got into a fight."

"With who?" Clarke had seen fights at school; she knew how vicious they could get.

"Just someone who said something about my sister, princess." This time the boy smirks, looking at her through the corner of his eye.

Clarke ignores the princess comment at this age she was already use to the nicknames everyone called her, "And did you win?"

This time the boy turns to her a small impish grin on his face, "Of course, my sister my responsibly."

Clarke frowns down at her hands but doesn't say anything while she tries to ignore the boy's eyes on her. He truly has beautiful eyes, they're chocolate brown with tiny flacks of gold and hazel. They make her feel warm and safe, a part of her wants them to swallow her up whole.

The two are silent for a while both observing the sea before the boy speaks again pointing up at the sky, "Look a shooting star, you should make a wish."

Clarke scrunches up her nose confused, "Why?"

The boy laughs, "It's a thing people used to do a long time ago. I read about it."

"Why can't you wish on this type of shooting star?" Clarke asks him, her eyes tracking the streak of light as it moves across the sky.

"I wouldn't even know what to wish for. What about you?" The boy asks as he looks over at her his eyebrow raised in question.

"I'd wish for more nights like this." She says as she reclines back on her elbows.

The boy turns and smiles at her, an honest smile showing all his teeth, making the gold hints in his eyes almost appear to glow. _Eyes_ , she thought, _those damn eyes fucked me forever_.

Four years later that boy with his sweet eyes was carted off to the Hunger Games, a year later the sister he was suppose to protect followed him. The next time Clarke spoke to him was years later on the tribute train heading towards the Capital.

They had yelled at each other, and all while he was staring at her with those same warm eyes. Clarke should've known even back than that she was doomed – that she was doomed to love him.

Clarke opened her eyes again, leaving the memory in her head and letting it drift away from her. On the roof of the arena where the fake stars shone a small streak of light darted through the air. Clarke knew it was probably just one of the camera drones, but still she couldn't help herself.

"Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?" She whispered tiredly to the air.

A part of her – a silly part- imagined Bellamy was lying next to her. She imagined that he'd turn to her and give her that same big smile he'd shown in the cave that night all those years ago. She closed her eyes again and tried to think of what his answer might have been.

* * *

"Clarke! No!" Bellamy stormed towards the TV screen, smashing his fist against the wall next to it.

Clarke was in a brutal battle with Casper, the boy for district 1, he had her smashed up against a tree with a knife to her throat. Bellamy knew she was going to die- he knew it and all he could do was watch.

Casper threw Clarke onto the ground using his body weight to hold her down. Bellamy watched frozen as Casper pressed the tip of the knife against Clarke's side and slowly moved it up to her shoulder. He listened as she screamed in pain, the sound bursting through his ears.

Than to Bellamy's horror Casper slit Clarke's throat in less than a second. The cannon went off and Bellamy couldn't move as the camera did a long close up of Clarke's lifeless blue eyes. Bellamy lost it, with tears and curses spewing from his mouth. He brought his fists up to the TV screen and punched, and punched, and punched until his knuckles were torn up and the screen was just electrical wires and smashed glass hanging on the wall.

"Clarke!" He screamed her name over and over. With Each one he lost a little bit more of his fight until he was scrunched up in a ball on the ground, her name trembling from his lips in broken pieces.

"Clarke." He said her name as he burst awake.

Bellamy tried to grab his bearings. He was in his bed, his sheets knocked off him probably from his nightmare. He was covered in sweat, making the tips of his hair stick against his forehead. He was crying, actual tears slipped down his cheeks as he tried to calm himself down. Bellamy ran a hand over his face, _Clarke_. He had to make sure that she was okay- that she was alive.

He got out of bed in only his boxers and stumbled out into the hall. The apartment was dark and silent. It reminded Bellamy of the last night before Clarke left for the games. He passes her room on his way to the TV in the main living space. He tries not to look at it, because if he does he'll never make it to the TV- he'll barely be able to stand at all.

He takes a seat in the middle of the couch, the TV screen casting a blue light over the dark room. The TV is always on, with the Hunger Games being mandatory viewing for all citizens of Panam. _Snow doesn't want anyone to miss the deaths_ , Bellamy thinks, _he wants everyone to see them in all their brutal glory_. Bellamy's hands turn to fists, what he wouldn't do to mount Snow's head on a plate.

The screen rotates through the different tributes, there's eleven left. It stops on some for longer than others. Bellamy is only mildly interested until the camera stops on her. She looks half starved and delirious, he feels something inside of him clench up. _She's alive Bell_ , he tells himself, _she's still alive_. Clarkes laying on the floor of the caves she's been in for over three days now, Bellamy thinks she must be staring up at the stars or what appear to be stars.

The camera zooms in closer to Clarkes face, Bellamy finds himself moving to towards the screen as well until he stands directly in front of it- the glow hurting his eyes only slightly. He lets his fingers drift across her face, pressing lightly against her lips and her eyes. He holds his breath when she speaks.

"Can you wish on this kind of shooting star?" Suddenly Bellamy can't breath because she remembers. _She remembers!_

Ever since he was little that night has haunted him, and everyday at school he would see her with her friends. And he'd wanted so badly to just approach her, just saying anything. And yet he hadn't been able to, he hadn't been able to conjure a single thought of what to say. So for years he'd just stared at her, watched from afar as she grew into this gorgeous fierce looking girl he knew of today. Even after surviving the Hunger Games and becoming victor, it was memories of that night that still kept him awake until the early hours of the morning thinking about what _could_ have been- what _almost_ was.

Bellamy's fingers traced her lips. _Yes_ , he thought, _you can have anything you want princess. I would give you the world if only you'd live._

That night instead of going back to his room Bellamy pushed open the door to hers. It looked exactly as it had when she'd been here. Bellamy let out a haggard sigh as he clasped onto her bed he fell asleep instantly his last thought being of how her pillows smelled exactly of coconut shampoo.

 _You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess._

 _It's a love story, baby, just say, "Yes"._

 _'Cause we were both young when I first saw you_

* * *

 **A/N:** So obviously I'm a Taylor Swift fan, and I was listening to Love Story while typing up this chapter and it fit so well that I had to use some of the lyrics. Hope you all enjoyed that peek into Bell and Clarke's past. Leave a review if you want me to include more flashbacks like this one in later chapters! Thanks as always. -BB


	8. Chapter 8: A Piece of Him

**A/N:** So I know it's been awhile since I updated this story, but that is only because my account wasn't working. TL &TL has been posted and updated regularly on my other accounts: BlushingBeauty14 on Watt Pad and AccioMarina on AO3. I will be posting the other chapters as soon as possible on this account no that it's working again!

* * *

 _Sometimes I wonder if love is worth fighting for._

Day five and Clarke was desperate for food. She had plenty of water but without protein her body would starve before she even made it close to the end. She took stalk of her waterlogged backpack:

 _1 water canteen_

 _1 med kit_

 _1 blade, good for defense and setting traps_

 _20 feet worth of thick nylon climbing rope._

Clarke knew her only chance was to reach the top of the cliffs and hope there was greenery or forest up there. She knew she didn't have enough energy to survive a swim back especially with the blood thinner in the water, so climbing was her only option. She stepped out of the cave and took one look at the cliff and her heart dropped. There was no way her rope was going to be long enough to make it to the top; she was going to have to free climb. That meant no ropes to hold her, and no safety net to catch her fall. Every placement of her feet and hands had to be perfect; one misstep could mean a fatal fall. _Breath and be brave Clarke_ , she told herself, _breath and be brave._

Clarke packs everything up into her backpack. She's carful to fill her canteen up as much as possible and to secure the med kit so nothing more is damaged. She keeps the blade tucked securely into her waistband, easy access should she need it. Bellamy's bracelet is still firmly tied around her wrist, _where it will stay_ , she promises. Lastly she places the rope also inside the pack; it could be useful to her later down the road. She gives one last final sweeping gaze of the cave. _Goodbye_ , she thinks. She than turns to face the daunting cliff above her, with one last firm nod of her head she begins to climb. _No turning back now_ , she thinks as her legs begin to shake with the effort to hold her against the rock face.

The cliffs look a lot easier to climb from the ground and a whole hell of a lot less steep. Clarke's about twenty feet up the rock face and she not even close to half way. She's using the divots in the rock and the different ledges to help haul herself up the cliff. It's a daunting and precarious climb, twice her fingers slip against the smooth rock, and she has to scramble to get proper footing before she falls. But even worse than the sheer rock is the wind, the higher she climbs the more intense it gets. The wind whips through her hair and pulls at her backpack almost knocking her off balance. Clarke knows she has to get to the top of the cliff; she'll die if she doesn't. _Come on_ , she urges herself, _it's only a little farther._

Two hours into her climb and she's only got to get over one more ledge before she reaches the top. Clarke tries not to look down, but it's unavoidable. She supposes she's about one hundred feet from the ground but in all reality she could be much higher.

Clarke's wetsuit has protected her arms, legs and feet from the jagged rocks but it can do nothing for her hands. She can feel the slick blood, from sharp edges of the rocks and divots she's grabbed onto, pooling in her palms making her hands slippery. Still she doesn't stop. She keeps climbing, because there is no way in hell she's going to die because of some rocks. The wind had picked up again as Clarke made it to the base of the last rock ledge. _Almost to the top_ , she smiled, tired and haggard but alive.

She was just about to pull herself up on to the final ledge when she felt the first tremble of the rock. She stilled her movements and waited a few seconds; the trembles continued this time growing in intensity. _Earthquake_. Clarke smashed herself against the rock surface as she felt the cliff shift beneath her. Her head hit against the bottom of the rock ledge as she wedged herself into position where she wouldn't be knocked off. _Those damn game makers always trying to fucking make things interesting_ , she cursed them under her breath.

Large cracking noises echoed off to her left and right as huge sections of the cliff broke off and fell into the ocean below completely burying the caves at the beach. Clarke swallowed uneasily; if she'd stayed she'd be dead right now or trapped beneath two tons worth of rock and rubble. The trembling continued but Clarke's side of the cliff held together with only smaller boulders falling down the cliff surface.

Clarke counted out ten minutes after the trembling stopped before she unlatched from her safe position beneath the ledge. She used the remaining strength in her arms to haul herself up onto the rock outcropping. She fell onto her back breathing heavily as she tried to catch her breath. That's when she heard four booms of the cannon go off. Clearly the earthquake hadn't just been isolated to her cliff, it must have sent out shock waves all across the arena. _What a horrible way to go,_ she thought, _either crushed by rocks or drowned by a giant title wave._

Clarke pushed herself back onto her feet as her muscles screamed in protest. _Ten feet left,_ she told them, _hold it together for ten more feet_. They did, gritting her teeth and hefting each limb from one rock to the next she managed to limber up and over the lip of the cliff. Sweat and dried blood covering skin and yet she had made it. A two hundred foot climb and somehow she had done it, the princess had climbed a mountain. She'd done it all by herself, although Clarke was sore and tired she could feel strength coursing through her muscles. _Dragon fire_ , she thought, _I'm build from dragon fire_. She smiled and tilted her head up to the sun it was about midday and the heat covered her like a warm blanket, even so she couldn't keep the smile off her face.

Clarke was hit with a sudden moment of loneliness, what she wouldn't give to turn to someone and celebrate with them- _with him_. Yet she was alone, for almost a week she had yet to see another human being. Of course she knew a nation of thousands of people were watching her every move at any given moment, but it was in this moment of small triumph that she felt the most lonely. Bellamy's face surfaced in her mind, she wanted to tell him about what she'd done. She wanted him here in the arena with her. She wanted to throw her arms around him and cry, and laugh, and scream. She spun on the spot and found only the lonely forest as her companion.

She looked back out over the cliff. The whole arena spread out beneath her. To her left was the flat desert arena and beyond that the beginnings of a hilly grassland area. To her right was the forest, which turned into a swamp that joined up with the grassland area. The whole place was a giant circle with a small ocean in the middle of it. The cornucopia looked like a tiny speck in the center. _Wow_ , she thought, _from up here the whole place actually looks kind of beautiful._

The forest around her had long grass growing in clumps, Clarke spent the rest of the day weaving the grass blades into nets and setting them up in strategic places hidden among the greenery hoping to catch some small game. If she was lucky she might get a boar, she pushed away thoughts of catching anything bigger like a person. A shudder went up her back thinking about what she'd have to do to them. The knife in her waistband suddenly felt like a hundred pound weight.

* * *

Clarke walked a short distance into the forest, leaving her traps behind her. She wanted to check for anything edible but still be in hearing distance if one of them went off. She'd only been walking about a minute when she found a grove of wild black berries.

She waved through the various bushes collecting berries in her hands and popping them into her mouth. She'd never tasted anything so good in her life. After five days without food she bet even deer dung would taste good. Clarke had bent down to pick a few more berries while sucking the sweet juice off one of her fingers when she heard the strong snap of a twig.

Immediately Clarke pressed herself closer to the berry bush. Hoping if she curled down low behind the clump of berry bushes what ever or whoever was out there would just pass right on by.

Clarke stayed very still holding her breath because she afraid even her exhale could alert whatever was out there lurking in the forest.

The footsteps came closer stopping right behind her bush. Clarke sucked in a breath her heartbeat rising in her ears. Carefully she slid the blade out of her waistband and held it between her clammy hands. She decided whatever was standing behind her was definitely human judging by the sound footsteps had made when approaching her bush.

Looking down at her blade Clarke counted down from three. All at once she sprung from her hiding spot spinning with her knife outstretched to meet her opponent.

"Wells?" Clarke chocked out the question relief evident in her voice.

The dark skinned boy stared wide-eyed from Clarke to the knife that had stopped less than an inch from his neck. One move and Clarke could have him dead in less than a second flat.

"Clarke?" Wells looked wary of her.

Clarke dropped her knife and pulled the boy into a hug. Even though Clarke had explained that being allies was too risky for her, the two had remained close during training. Part of the reason Clarke was so scared to watch the holograms at night was because she was terrified she'd see Well's face up there staring down at her.

Wells laughed, "Ah so the dynamic duo meets again."

* * *

Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck as he stepped out of yet another dance with a love struck capital women. He anxiously looked back at the big screen on the wall. It was currently showing a close up of Finn as he stumbled through the forest blood seeping from where Casper had stabbed him. _Idiot_ , Bellamy thought, _making an alliance with the careers never guarantees safety_.

As much as Bellamy didn't like the boy he did feel sickened by the dark spot spreading over Finns side and abdomen. _He'll die slow_ , Bellamy knew that a wound like that was likely to bleed out slowly for days until eventually either the agonizing pain or bloodless ended the poor boy. Bellamy shook his head, as much as he didn't like Finn he would never wish a death so torturous on someone. Finn had managed to find a cave nestled between two rocks in the forest where he collapsed, the hand pressing against his side smeared red with blood.

The cameras panned to Clarke and Wells who were both leaning against a tree in the forest. Bellamy knew that Clarke having an ally was a good idea. There was more protection for her and a greater chance of finding food. But still he didn't like that her chosen ally was Wells. It was nothing the boy had done it was just the way his eyes watched Clarke; Bellamy had that same heated gaze when he looked at her. Bellamy didn't like anyone- let alone another guy- looking at Clarke like that. She was _his_ princess.

Another reason Wells rubbed Bellamy the wrong way was because he had to protect Clarke. Bellamy had to trust someone else with her life. It wasn't that Wells had given any inclination that he wasn't trustworthy. Letting people in was hard for Bellamy, trusting people with pieces of himself was something he never really did. Clarke was in every sense a piece of him, maybe even the most important. Bellamy didn't like how out of control he felt when he had to trust her life to someone else's hands. He hated it, hated Snow, hated the games, hated the capital, hated every living soul who thought it was okay to throw children into a games to the death, he hated who being a victor had turned him into, he hated that Clarke wasn't safe, and most of all he hated that there wasn't a god dammed thing he could do about any of it.

He was brought out of his thoughts as someone came up beside him. Bellamy kept his eyes on the screen but he knew who the person was immediately, she was the most normal looking capital citizen at the party.

Glass didn't say anything about Bellamy's clenched fists or stern expression. She regarded him impassively. Bellamy always liked that about Glass, her ability to say everything by saying nothing. How when she spoke her words always struck the recipient deep in their core. She never judged and she always spoke the truth.

They didn't speak as Bellamy watched the screen and slowly the tension left his body and his hands fell to his sides once more. The screen had circled back through all the tributes and settled once again on Clarke, who was lying on the grass staring up the stars.

Bellamy wasn't sure if the fake stars on the roof of the arena were of actual constellations or just random dots. Clarke seemed to be trying to figure that out too. Her eyebrows knitted together and she tried to place certain constellations. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips. He'd taught her some star patterns on her last night before the games began, she must be trying to find them again. The thought made warmth pool in Bellamy's stomach. He felt an inexplicable tug in his gut for the girl on the screen in front of him.

"Wow," Glass was staring at him eyebrow raised.

"What?" Bellamy turned his attention from the screen to the blonde stylist to his right.

"Nothing. It's just that you should have seen the way you were looking at her."

Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck a slight blush rising on his cheeks. _Had he really been that obvious?_

"How was I looking at her?"

"Like she's the ocean and your desperate to drown."

* * *

It was pitch black in the forest and eerily silent. Clarke didn't like it, it was her turn to be on watch and she'd turned into a pool of anxiety. She gripped the blade tightly between her fingers; it shook slightly as she moved her head to scan the surrounding trees. She could pick out nothing in the darkness.

Than she heard it; the snap of tree branches, the ruffled sound of grass blades and a muffled scream. _My traps!_ She woke Wells and the two creeped silent into the clearing where Clarke had set up her nets. She knew immediately which trap had been sprung. It was the one at the far end of the clearing near where she'd found the blackberry bushes.

They both approached the net, now hanging ten feet in the air, with caution. As Clarke neared the dangling woven trap she could just make out a vague small black figure tangled in the center, and a few quick flashes of blond hair.

"Charlotte?"

The figure whipped her head around to face Clarke. In the darkness she could just make out two blue terrified eyes staring back at her. They glowed against the otherwise black night.

Wells undid the trap and Clarke threw her blade aside as she rushed to help the younger girl untangle herself. Charlotte was Wells's district partner. Wells had often said she was a sweet and quite little girl, definitely too young for the games. Clarke thought the girl in front of her resembled a frightened little mouse.

Clarke and Wells walked Charlotte back to where they'd set up camp, neither noticed that the little girl had tucked Clarke's blade into one of her boots.

 _But then I remember your face_

 _And I'm ready for war_

* * *

 **A/N:** Ok I'm trying to get these chapters updated as fast as possible for you guys, fingers crossed my account doesn't glitch again! -BB


	9. Chapter 9: Sinful Lips

A/N: Here's chapter 9! I hope you all enjoy it! -BB

* * *

 ** _Princess;_**

 _With lips made of glass_

 _And a voice cut from steel_

 _Features born from thunder and battle_

Bellamy crosses his arms and leans back against the brick wall of his school. It's warm out and sunny with just a slight breeze from the sea that makes the air smell faintly of salt. Summer is almost upon him; they only have a few weeks of school left. Bellamy carries a weight around in his stomach; summer brings the reaping, and the reaping brings death for him and Octavia.

Bellamy's eyes search the schoolyard like he does every day. He spots a flash of blonde hair across the yard. He smiles, _Clarke Griffin_. She has on a ridiculous dress that her mother probably made her wear, but her hair is still tied back in her ever-present French braid. _Just like that night at the cliffs_. Bellamy shakes his head that was four years ago he was fourteen now, and Clarke had to be about twelve. He doubted she even remembered it.

She stood across the yard arms folded over her chest with the most adorable stern expression that he'd ever seen. She was facing down a kid in Bellamy's grade who had dared to pull at the tail of her braid. The boy was probably double Clarkes height and weight, yet the little blonde girl held her ground. The boy sneered down at her as a teacher approached and pushed the two apart. Bellamy's eyes tracked her movement as she walked back to a group of girls on the opposite side of the blacktop.

"Why don't you just go and talk to her?"

Bellamy nearly jumped three feet in the air, when Octavia spoke. He hadn't even noticed that she'd approached. Octavia crooked her head to the side regarding him quizzically but a mischievous smile played out on her lips. She had the top part of her hair tied back with a red ribbon; their mother must have found it that morning.

Bellamy rolled his eyes ignoring his sister, "Why don't you go back and play with your friends?"

Bellamy tipped his head back to lean against the red brick wall, while Octavia ignored him and stayed perched at his side.

"Her name is Clarke Griffin." Octavia raised up onto her the tops of her toes giving him a too innocent smile.

"I know." Bellamy had watched her for long enough, he'd had her name memorized for years.

"Why are you always watching her?"

Bellamy just shook his head but didn't answer her.

Octavia pouted, "Bell please."

Bellamy turned to her his annoyance rising.

"Go O!" He pointed back to a group of her friends who were drawing with stubby pieces of chalk, "Leave me alone."

Octavia looked sad but she did as she was told, turning away from her brother and heading back across the black top.

Bellamy let out a breath and turned his head back to where Clarke had been standing with her friends. His next inhale of breath caught in his throat because she was looking right at him, her stare pinning him against the brick wall. Her blue eyes swirled as they locked with his brown ones. But only for a second before turning back to the group of friends standing around her, like she hadn't seen him in the first place.

A harsh beeping coming from his watch pulled Bellamy from the memory playing in his head bringing him back to the present. That had been a week before the reaping- _before he became a killer_. Back when things were simpler. All he had to worry about was brawls in the schoolyard and keeping O out of trouble.

Bellamy heard a sigh to his right. The blonde girl breathed out peacefully her exhales fanning out across his bare chest. Fauna, Cressida's friends from the first party he'd attended at the beginning of the games, lay asleep nestled at him side. She'd apparently been so taken with Bellamy at the party that she'd made a request to Snow to book a 'session' with him. This was the third one she'd paid for since the games started.

Fauna shifted slightly on his chest her hair rubbing against his skin. She'd died it blonde, Bellamy could tell because of the darker roots at the base of her neck. He couldn't help but wish the girl next to him had real honey colored hair that way he could at least pretend she was someone else- _someone who he loved_.

* * *

 _ **Warrior** ; _

_With Fire in her veins_

 _And armor beneath her skin_

 _Who crushes the earth beneath her feet._

* * *

The boom of the canon shocked Clarke awake as she flew shakily onto her feet looking frantically around the camp. Charlotte shot up next to Clarke grabbing at her jacket sleeve. Wells stood opposite Clarke staring up at the sky; waiting.

The opening notes of the capital anthem played as a face popped up in the sky. Clarke vaguely recognized him as the boy from district two.

"Good. One career down." She spoke aloud.

Wells and Charlotte looked at her with puzzled expressions

"Clarke," Well spoke slowly to her, "he was the last career the other three have been dead since day 1."

"What are you talking about? No they haven't."

"Clarke how long were you passed out on that beach?"

"Only a couple hours, I didn't think I'd missed anything."

Wells nodded, "Yeah, Murphy killed them one by one. He's been hunting the rest of us down-"

"Looking for you." Clarke finished Wells statement remembering their altercation with Murphy in the training room on the first day.

"So who's left then?"

Charlotte, who hadn't said a word through the whole exchange, spoke up.

"Us, Finn, and Murphy. That's it."

Clarke drew in a breath, _the final five_. She had somehow made it to the final five. She could win- she could go home. Subconsciously Clarke ran her fingers over Bellamy's bracelet, tracing the delicate stones and the supple rope. It calmed her and at the same time filled her with deep worry. _It's almost worse_ , she thought, _being so close to the end, like falling short right in front of the finish line. Tragic._

"We should move camp, find some place more secure. We're the last alliance in the game. Murphy will be coming for us next." Wells spoke, already gathering his things. Clarke followed without comment.

They make camp near the top of the cliff that Clarke had scaled only a day prior. Wells had said it was the highest point in the whole arena, therefore they could see anyone coming towards them. Clarke took first watch to let the other two get some sleep because Wells had been on watch when the canon went off and Charlotte looked too tired to stand. Any sleep the younger girl could get was worth it what with her constant nightmares.

Clarke sat silent as the night staring out across the dark black water of the arena. Part of the reason she hated the nights so much was because they gave her time to think- _sometimes thinking was the worst part_.

A warm breeze blew her hair off her shoulders and reminded her of a night before the games- _her last night_. Bellamy had taken her up onto the roof of the complex where they'd been housed for the week. They were both sitting next to each other and he was telling her the myth about the star constellation Andromeda.

"She was the beautiful daughter of Queen Cassiopeia. The Queen, being very vain, boasted about her own beauty, saying she was even more beautiful than the Nereid's. This angered Poseidon, the sea god. To cool his anger, Cassiopeia chained her daughter to a rock on the beach as a sacrifice to the sea monster Cetus. But the hero Perseus, who killed Cetus by turning him to stone with Medusa's severed head, saved her. Eventually they both fell in love."

Clarke nodded along with the story as Bellamy pointed out the different stars that make up the constellation.

"She's known as the princess", he'd told her, "it suits you."

Clarke turned her head towards him, some of her loose curls brushed his shoulder when she spoke, "And whys that?"

Bellamy looked away, his hand ticking nervously.

"No reason." He mumbled barely audible.

The two were silent for a while before Clarke spoke.

"Will you tell me your favorite myth?"

Bellamy smirked down at her, "I couldn't, there's too many to choose from."

Clarke huffed, "Bell please. It'll give me something else to think about in the arena."

Bellamy rolled his eyes, "You know just how to guilt me into doing whatever you want you know that?"

Clarke only smirked at him.

She prompted him to start the story; her eyes tracked his freckles when he spoke. She imagined she could press a kiss to every single one of them; the thought brought a faint blush to her cheeks.

"The myth goes that Persephone, daughter of Zeus and Demeter, the goddess of springtime and girlhood was very beautiful and attracted many suitors. Her mother, Demeter, was very angry by this and kept the suitors away. One day Hades, god of the underworld, spotted Persephone and instantly fell in love with her. When Demeter refused to give her daughter to Hades he made a plan to kidnap her."

Bellamy paused with a sharp intake of breath when Clarke laid her head on his shoulder. Clarke smiled, content.

"With the help of Zeus, Hades lured Persephone away from her friends with a tempting beautiful Narcissus flower. When Persephone plucked the flower a tiny hole appeared, the hole grew and Hades birth forth riding on his chariot. He grabbed Persephone and stole her away to the underworld."

"And what happened?" Clarkes voice was earnest.

Bellamy smiled down at her, "Well the original myth says that Demeter was so angry that she made Zeus make a deal with Hades that Persephone would spend half the year on Earth and the other half in the Underworld as queen." His voice had dropped to a whisper.

"But you don't believe that part?" Clarke's voice too had dropped to a match his.

Their faces were so close- _too close_. Bellamy's breath mingled with Clarke's own.

"No, I don't believe Demeter would settle for a deal unless she knew her daughter was happy."

"You believe Persephone loved Hades too." Clarke said knowingly.

Bellamy nodded, "Star crossed lovers."

"Tragic." Clarke answered him, their lips less than an inch apart.

"Bell?"

"Hmm?" Bellamy's eyes locked with Clarke's

"Why did you tell my that story?" Clarke ached to touch him- to know the feel of his lips against hers.

Bellamy's eyes dropped to Clarke's lips, "Because sometimes tragic love is the best kind there is."

In Clarke's ears his voice sounded as sinful as his lips looked, and something inside of her ached for him. She turned her head away first, unable to trust herself with the temptation of him. _Tragic_ , she thought, _beautiful and deadly_. For she knew if she let herself love him she'd only ever cause him more pain.

 _You can't love me_ , she'd wanted to scream at him, _I'm going to die tomorrow_.

* * *

Clarke wasn't present when it happened, but the cameras were. The Gamemakers made sure the entire country saw innocent little Charlotte drag a knife across Wells neck. Bellamy's surprise echoed that of thousands.

He was standing next to Octavia and Lincoln at the time. Bellamy was watching the screen and trying very hard to ignore Octavia's obvious flirting with the other victor. The cameras had moved from a quick snippet of Finn still hiding in a cave, to Murphy perched in a tree overlooking the edge of the swamp- too close to Clarke's camp for Bellamy to handle. The screen than changed to Clarke who was weaving another grass net, probably for catching wild game. Something stirred worriedly in Bellamy's stomach; the earthquake had been two days ago. The public was getting restless waiting for the next big twist; he could practically feel their bloodlust. Bellamy worried that if there wasn't some action soon the game makers may unleash one of their deadly creations.

Charlotte's face popped up on the screen. Her and Wells were by the berry bushes, picking and talking as they walked, the sun was going down- a good indicator that the Gamemakers had something up their sleeves. _Always at night_ , Bellamy remembered, _they always set a trap at night_.

Something didn't feel right, unease settled in Bellamy's gut. Something about Charlottes body language read as off to him.

"You don't sleep do you kid?" Wells asked her.

The dark circles under Charlotte's eyes stood out dramatically against her pale skin, far too many to just be from the games.

"I never can. I get nightmares." Charlotte wouldn't look at Wells when she spoke.

"I get them every night. But I think I've found a way to make them stop." Charlotte bent down appearing to pluck at more berries, but Bellamy could see the glint of silver as she pulled the knife out of her boot.

Wells was still looking the opposite way, surveying the trees. Bellamy wanted to shout at him to turn around. _Look at her you idiot!_

Charlotte uttered, "I'm sorry," just as Wells turned to look at her with a confused expression on his face. Charlotte brought her hand up to Wells neck and dragged the dagger across the front of his throat.

The room around Bellamy erupted into gasps of shock and dismay as Wells fell gasping to the ground, reaching towards Charlotte in vain.

She kneeled beside him whispering tears forming in her eyes, "Every night I see him, your father, and he kills my parents. And I see his face, than I wake up and I see yours. It never ends. This was the only way to stop it."

Wells body isn't moving anymore, "I had too." Charlotte tells him.

The canon booms and everyone in the room stands completely still.

 _ **Heroine** ; _

_A grin made of war_

 _And eyes flecked with ash_

 _Striding powerful into the arms of death._

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry to all those Well's lovers out there. Please leave a comment/ review on the story -BB


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